The Deeply Dastardly Mrs Caroline Darcy
by BelleEpoquer
Summary: Bitchy Caroline Bingley has managed to bag Darcy but will she get her happy ever after...?
1. Chapter 1

Caroline lay next to her husband too eaten up with desire to sleep. Even after 6 months of marriage it was still a rare treat to share the same bed as Darcy.

Their marriage had been a quiet affair. The service, attended only by immediate family on her side and virtually nobody on his, took place in Pemberley's private chapel. The wedding breakfast had been subdued and the wedding night a non-event. Pressing estate matters had apparently kept Darcy from being able to take his wife on honeymoon.

Caroline realised now that Darcy shared her bed on their wedding night purely as a formality. It was a stratagem to stop tongues wagging and awkward questions being asked in the morning, most especially by her brother. After her family, including Bingley, left the next day Darcy never again shared her bedroom while at Pemberley.

But tonight they were staying at her brother's London home. If Bingley knew of the strains and unhappiness's within his sister's marriage he gave no sign and always made up a single double room when she and her husband came to stay.

This night, like her wedding night, was proving a torture of unrequited lust. She listened to her husband's breath, it was not yet slow and rhythmic. He was not asleep. So far, in an attempt to keep what was left of her dignity, she had managed to resist making a direct physical overture. She dreaded the night that she broke and came to her husband begging him to take her and make her a proper wife to him.

Tonight had been particularly painful because Bingley's wife had invited her sister, Elizabeth who was staying with the Gardiners, over for dinner. It was like a dagger being plunged into her heart every time she glanced over and saw her husband looking longingly at that frightful upstart, Elizabeth.

What was she thinking coming to dinner, anyway? Didn't she realise that she's lost the battle? Caroline had won. Darcy was hers. Divorce was not an option. Elizabeth should know when to back off and admit defeat. But even so, it was time to make her husband truly hers, for all time. Caroline swallowed and screwed up her courage to speak.

"Darcy, my love..."

There was a pause before he reluctantly replied with a curt, "What?"

"What of heirs, my precious? Pemberley must have heirs, must she not?"

A heavy silence followed. Caroline chose to take this as a promising sign. She stretched out a tentative hand and touched her husband's taunt stomach fleetingly before he roughly brushed it away. Caroline felt sick after such an undisguised rejection. She buried her face in her pillow and bit back bitter tears.

The next morning at breakfast, after an almost sleepless night, Caroline did her best to look fresh, composed and happy but her brother was not deceived.

"Dearest sister, are you quite well?" Bingley's usually happy countenance frowned with concern. "You look a trifle puffy around the eyes."

Jane flashed a warning look at her husband. "Caroline, do not concern yourself. I think you look perfectly lovely as always. Bingley darling, it is not just illness and upset that cause puffy, tired eyes. Sometimes they can herald a happy event."

Upon seeing Caroline and Darcy's look of confusion Jane realised too late that her attempt to sooth over troubled waters had made matters worse.

"Jane's darling Aunt Gardiner has invited us all over to Gracechurch Street for dinner this evening," said Bingley brightly in an attempt to defuse the crunchy atmosphere. "I must say I always enjoy their table and if Elizabeth can be persuaded to once more play and sing it will have all the makings of a topping evening."

"It is hard to resist the charms of Elizabeth's song," said Darcy wistfully.

"Dearest brother," cut in Caroline, "you observed correctly, I am indeed not feeling well today."

"Then you must be bled immediately, dear sister," said a concerned Jane, "I will send the hall boy for the doctor at once."

"No, dearest sister! I pray, do not trouble yourself," Caroline detested being bled above all things. "I am sure that I just need some rest but I'm afraid I will not be able to attend dinner tonight." Caroline fleered at her husband. Propriety meant that he must stay at home with her this evening.

Darcy looked annoyed. Jane once more tried to alleviate the situation by appealing to Caroline's vanity, "Why Caroline, what an exquisite ring! I don't think I've ever seen it before. What an unusual setting."

A sly smile momentarily lifted Caroline's sad features, "Yes, it is lovely, isn't it. It was given to me by an Italian governess I used to have."

"Oh, I remember her," said Bingley with a shiver. "She gave me the creeps, I don't mind telling you."

"Well, I liked her. She made me feel strong. So I wear her ring when I want to feel strong and in control." Caroline addressed her reply to Darcy.

After breakfast, anxious to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere between the Darcys, the Bingley's excused themselves from table with alacrity. Caroline got up to follow but Darcy stayed put, stirring his coffee thoughtfully. His rudeness at not getting up did not escape her.

"Caroline, I've been thinking," began Darcy.

Caroline's heart sunk. She had no idea of what was to follow but when her husband spoke to her it usually heralded something she did not want to hear.

"I married you, as honour dictated that I should. I subsequently tried to view you as my wife and applied myself to being a dutiful husband as much as one could when our marriage followed from such an improper and unhappy beginning. However, six months on, I find myself quite unable to love you or think of you as my wife. Caroline, I you are sad and I will never be able to make you happy. My feelings, as always, lie firmly with Elizabeth Bennet. I am now wholly convinced that she is the only woman on earth who can make me happy and I am growing confident that her feelings towards me equal mine."

His words hit her with the force of a punch. Her chest started to heave. She gripped the back of her chair until her knuckles showed white, "Of what are you talking? She'll never have you. She is too arrogant to ever consent to be your mistress."

Darcy leapt up, "Don't ever talk of Elizabeth Bennet in such terms. If you were a man I would challenge you to a duel for attempting to besmirch her honour. I intend to marry Elizabeth."

"How?" cried Caroline, "Divorce is impossible, unheard of. Divorce is the sport of kings."

"Yes, but annulment is for everyman."

"Annulment?" Caroline backed away. A deeply buried horror was starting to crawl up her back.

"Yes, annulment. We've never consummated our marriage Caroline. An annulment will be granted as a matter of course."

Caroline wanted to scream "No! No! No!" but her gutter cunning told her to remain quiet as her mind raced through possible ways out of this fast approaching nightmare. She decided playing it weak was probably her best card to play at the moment. She sank back into her chair. Darcy rushed to her and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Caroline. I have tried so hard. This is the only way forward. I will give you a very generous allowance. You will be looked after and when the dust has settled you will be free to find a husband who loves you."

"Yes, yes of course," said Caroline faintly.

"Why don't you lie down and try to get well. I will tell your brother what has been decided."

"No!" cried Caroline in alarm, "I mean, please just give me today to assimilate what you have told me. I need a day to myself before having to deal with pitying looks and inquiries of concern."

Having finally made his decision Darcy was anxious to start implementing it but Caroline's request was not unreasonable.

"Of course," he turned to leave.

"And Darcy," he stopped and faced her, "please don't go to the Gardiner's tonight." His answer was a silent bow.

That evening, after a silent, joyless supper a deux, Darcy sojourned to the library to find solace in a brandy and a good book. Moments later he was joined by his wife. Darcy stiffened at this unwanted intrusion. But he had to admit that he had been rudely quiet over supper so he gritted his teeth and forced himself to play the role of dutiful husband for a few hours longer. The talk with Bingley first thing in the morning could not come soon enough. Straight afterwards he would head to Gracechurch Street and propose to his dearest Elizabeth.

He looked up at his wife with a half smile, "I thought you would want to retire straight after supper. I did not want to tire you with conversation but you are feeling better, I pray."

"Yes, quite better, thank you," she closed the heavy oak door behind her.

"Then I am glad. You'll join me for a brandy?"

"I would like that," she smiled slowly.

"I'll call for a footman," Darcy reached for the bell pull.

"No!" cried Caroline, "I mean to say, the decanter and glasses are just here. Let me pour for myself and replenish your glass."

She swooped up his balloon glass before he could reply. Darcy shrugged and reluctantly closed his book. More brandy would ease the situation. Moments later she came back from the drinks tray and handed him back his glass.

"What larks! Just imagine, if we were poor there would be no footmen and I would be serving you your brandy every night."

Darcy couldn't be bothered to observe that if they were poor they would not be drinking brandy at all. He did not want to risk dampening her unexpectedly chipper mood so instead he took a deep swig of brandy and replied, "You are in good spirits."

"Yes, I went to visit an old friend this afternoon."

He swirled his drink and took another swig. Her jaw clenched. She wanted his to ask who she had been visiting, to show some small sign of jealousy. It was too late now, of course, but it would have been a comfort to remember."

"I went to see my old Italian governess. We're still in touch you see."

"How nice. It seems it was a pleasant visit. One that revived you."

"Oh yes, it did. It was a productive visit also."

"Productive?" Darcy's brow furrowed as he took another sip, "how so?" Darcy's furrow deepened, this brandy was strong, suddenly he didn't feel good and was having trouble focusing on his wife. He shook his head to try and clear his vision. He couldn't be sure but instead of looking concerned she looked as though she was smiling.

"Oh, it's always productive when I visit dear Isabella de Medici. Her family used to be terribly grand, you know. But over the generations they lost their money and so she was reduced to becoming a governess."

"I visited her earlier in the year. That was a productive visit also. She gave me something, a powder to put inside this special ring which opens like so, which I then tipped into your drink and what do you know? You, seemingly drunk, are found by my brother lying on top of me in the library at Pemberley. Yes, that's right, I hunted you down, spiked your drink and then, when you fell on the floor I pulled you on top of me and dragged my skirts up to my waist. By the time the drug had worn off your sense of honour saw to it that we were engaged as soon as possible."

Darcy's brandy glass smashed to the floor. He went to speak but only a strangled gurgle came out. In a rush of concern Caroline went to his side, dropped to her knees and held his limp, sweaty hand.

"Don't worry, it will soon all be over my darling. You see, a lady can only take so much. But I insisted upon something swift and relatively painless. Isabella is naughty. When I told her about the things you'd said, about the humiliations and rejections she wanted to give you something slow and agonising but you see, the truth is, I love you. I don't want you to suffer. I just want you dead."

As the poison worked towards its final conclusion Darcy's body trembled, his eyes screamed out in pain.

"It's belladonna, its tastes sweet and it's quick, my darling love. It's hard to detect. Everybody will think you had a heart attack. So much better to die, my precious, than to go through the humiliation of an annulment. This way you die with your social position in tact and I...well I inherit Pemberley. I won't remarry. You are the only person I have ever loved and I will not risk another man having dominion over me. Rest easy, my love, Pemberley will go to my brother's children and I will of course take good care of your beloved sister."

Darcy gave a final spasm before departing this life. His wife calmly closed his eyes and lingeringly kissed him on the forehead before taking herself off to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Elizabeth was concentrating on being bright and gay. Nobody must guess her secret, not even her beloved sister and aunt. Nobody must realise that she was crushed that Darcy did not attend dinner. Nobody must know that she was deeply in love with a married man.

"Elizabeth, that was delightful!" cried Mrs. Gardiner as Elizabeth finished her song.

"Wasn't it just!" agreed Bingley.

"Your necklace sparkles so becomingly in the candlelight," said Mrs. Gardiner "I do declare that you would not look out of place at St. James Palace this evening."

"I hope Mr. Lucas would agree with you," smiled Elizabeth. Her fingers went up to her stunning diamond necklace. It was a family heirloom that had once belonged to her father's grandmother. Her father had given her the necklace straight after Jane got married, much against the wishes of his wife. Mr. Bennet seemed to sense that Elizabeth was no longer looking for a husband. The necklace was his way of ensuring that his favourite daughter had financial security for life in the event that she was not marry.

"I must congratulate you Mrs. Gardiner on your roast beef. It was quite delicious. I always say, don't I Jane, that I've had some of the best dinners of my life in Gracechurch Street."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Gardiner graciously, "It would appear that there is a benefit to be had from living so close to Smithfield Market."

"I am quite the convert to Cheapside," said Bingley. "Jane, what say you, we shall sell our town house and move nearer your aunt and uncle? If that's what it takes to be served exceptional roast beef at my table then that's what we'll do."

Jane smiled fondly at her husband as the others chuckled heartily at the idea of the Mayfair based Bingleys decamping to Cheapside.

"I'm being serious!" protested Bingley.

The front door bell cut through their laughter.

"Whoever can that be at this hour?" puzzled Mr. Gardiner. Elizabeth tried to ignore an unexplained shiver of foreboding.

A moment later the footman came into the drawing room bearing a card on a silver tray. Mr. Gardiner picked it up and read it aloud, " 'Isabella de Medici, Apothecary' " he frowned "I've never heard of such a woman." He looked up, cocking one eyebrow and addressed his wife, "Have you been buying those confounded youth potions again?"

Mrs. Gardiner's usually serene features flashed momentarily with anger, "No, I most certainly have not!"

"Uncle, there is something written on the other side," said Elizabeth.

Mr. Gardiner turned over the card and read the handwritten scrawl, " 'Caroline Bingley's old governess'."

"I say!" said Bingley, "Why, that's the very woman we were discussing at breakfast this morning."

"Well, what the devil is she doing here?" said Mr. Gardiner.

"I have no idea," admitted Bingley.

"And at such a strange hour," mused Mrs. Gardiner. "What manner of woman is she?"

"I have to confess that I never took to her. I found her rather strange," continued Bingley.

"Strange in what way?" asked Elizabeth as she tried to quell a mounting feeling of dread.

"I couldn't really say. I just found her cold and got the distinct impression that she didn't like me but then again, that could have just been because she was Italian. They eat damn strange food you know. Anyway, Mother said that we were to give her a chance because she was a lone woman in the world, without the protection of family. Caroline was fond of her."

"De Medici? But are not they a great Italian family? I'm sure a Catherine de Medici married the King of France hundreds of years ago," said Mrs. Gardiner.

"According the Caroline, there was a reversal of family fortune," said Jane. "I'm sure that she can mean no harm if she was once a friend of Caroline's."

Elizabeth wished she could agree with her sister but instinct told her that Jane was being foolishly charitable.

"Had we not better invite her in and solve this mystery?" said Mrs. Gardiner. "I agree with Jane, I'm sure that a former governess of Caroline's must be respectable and well meaning." But Mrs. Gardiner was to eat her words when soon afterwards the mysterious caller was ushered into the drawing room.

Isabella was middle-aged and portly. Her complexion was sallow and pox marked and around her eyes and mouth lurked lines of bitterness and cruelty. Her black clothes were in the Italian style and, though old and worn, would have been fine when new.

"I don't believe we have the pleasure of knowing you," began Mr. Gardiner.

"He does!" Isabella pointed at Bingley. "But what I have to say is for you all to hear."

"Most singular," Mr. Gardiner had decided to enjoy this intrigue. "Can we offer you some refreshment?"

Isabella put up a grubby hand to silence him. "I'm afraid there is not time for introductions or refreshments. I come on an urgent mission. You have noticed, no doubt, that I am dressing in mourning."

"Yes, I did notice," said Bingley. "I am so sorry for your loss."

"No Sir, it is I who am sorry for yours."

Bingley frowned, "I'm sorry, I don't quite follow you."

Isabella's sullen mouth lifted slightly at the outer corners. "I speak of your dear friend, Mr. Darcy."

Bingley leapt out of his chair, "What? But Darcy is alive and well. We saw him not 3 hours ago."

"But now he lies dead in your Bruton Street home."

"No!" cried Elizabeth.

Isabella turned her narrow flint eyes upon Elizabeth, "I can tell from your expression of fear that you know in your heart that I am telling the truth. You see, earlier today I was visited by Miss Caroline Bingley. She said she wished to poison her husband. She begged me for a fast acting poison..."

"Monstrous lies!" cried Bingley but again Isabella put up a hand to stop him.

"I must remind you Sir, that time is of the essence. You see, I did not give Miss Bingley the fast acting poison she demanded. I gave her a slow acting one. Death appears to occur within moments but really the victim is in a deep death like slumber and does not die for a further three hours."

Elizabeth got up, "We must away! There is no time to be lost!"

"But my sister would never do such a wicked thing," insisted Bingley.

"I must assure you that she did," said Isabella.

"Let us go immediately and satisfy ourselves that this woman is talking vile nonsense," reasoned Jane.

"Ah, you married a wise woman," Isabella's smile was nearer to a sneer.

"We will go," said Bingley, "but may God damn you to hell for coming here this evening and saying such foul untruths."

"As soon as you enter your home you will see that I tell only the truth but hurry, if you want to save him. Even now, you may be too late."

The Bingley's and Elizabeth rushed for the door, calling for their carriage and coats."

"Oh, and there's just one other thing," said Isabella with irritating calmness, "be sure not to leave without this." She produced a small dusty dark blue glass bottle from her drawstring bag.

"What is it?" asked Elizabeth.

"The antidote."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three

"Well, don't just stand there! Hand it over!" cried Elizabeth.

"But of course...for a price."

"What?"

Isabella laughed bitterly, "You have no idea what it's like to exist as a single woman in the world, do you? In a world where most professions are closed to women, apart from the oldest one in the world and even for that I am too old now. And yet, we single woman must live and eat and pay our rent as everybody else. So when Miss Bingley came to me requesting poison I saw a way of doubling my money, buy selling her the poison and you the antidote."

"We will buy it from you," said Bingley. "I remember now why you were let go, mother suspected you of poisoning poor Piddles, her pug dog."

Isabella's flint eyes danced, "She was right. I hated that dog. She once made me clear up after it. I was a governess, not a parlour maid! That signed Piddles death warrant."

"How much?" said Bingley impatiently. "How much for the antidote?"

"Why as much as you have, of course. But I must have it now. I am not waiting for the banks to open in the morning."

"But we keep very little money in the house," said Bingley.

"Jewellery then."

"Most of that is kept in a bank volt or in a safe on our country estate."

"Oh well," Isabella started to put the glass bottle back in her bag.

"No!" cried Elizabeth, "Here, you can have this. It belonged to my great-grandmother. She was a very close friend and great favourite of Queen Anne. This was a present from the queen. It is worth a great deal." Elizabeth took off the necklace and showed it to Isabella but would not let her take it. "No, you shall have possession of it as soon as we find Darcy."

A slow smile curled around Isabella's cruel thin lips, "Agreed."

After a dash across London the Bingley's coach clattered to a halt outside their Bruton Street house and hastily disgorged its occupants. Bingley was first to fly through the front door shouting at the bewildered footman, "Darcy! Where is Darcy?"

"In the library, Master. He said he didn't want to be disturbed."

Bingley pushed past the footman and raced towards the library whilst shouting his friend's name. Jane and Elizabeth followed closely behind. Isabella calmly followed up the rear. The footman wandered after them. In all his years of working for his good natured and genial master he had never before seen him in such a state of agitation.

Bingley burst into the library and cried out in anguish at finding Darcy's lifeless body slumped in a burgundy leather chesterfield. He rushed over to his friend and sobbing, cradled him in his arms.

Upstairs in her room Caroline had been too nervous to sleep but even so the sudden noise and sound of her brother's anxious shouts made her start. She took a moment to compose herself before grabbing her dressing gown and flying downstairs towards the library. She was about to give any Shaftesbury Lane actress a run for her money at playing the grieving widow.

"Charles! Charles!" cried Caroline as she breathlessly entered the library. "What ails you? Why are you shouting?" and then upon seeing Darcy, "Oh no! My love!"

Charles lifted his weeping head away from his friend and turned murderous eyes upon his sister, "You! You, what have you done to him?"

Caroline's heart turned to ice. "Done Sir? I know not your meaning? I, I..."she walked backwards slowly, her voice trembling as her brother left his friend and advanced upon her.

Elizabeth ripped off her necklace and threw it at Isabella, "Give me the antidote now!"

Isabella once more retrieved the dusty bottle from her bag and exchanged it for the necklace. Elizabeth rushed to Darcy's side and pulled the cork from the bottle.

"Just a trickle is all that's needed," warned Isabella, "otherwise you might choke him to death and then where would we be?"

Elizabeth held Darcy close and carefully administered the antidote.

"As soon as he comes to, or should I say _if_ he comes to, then he's had enough. Don't give him no more. The antidote itself is poisonous in large quantities."

A deathly silence fell over the library as Elizabeth continued to drip the antidote between Darcy's blue lifeless lips.

"We are too late!" cried Bingley. "All is lost."

"Darling, we must have faith," said Jane.

"Come back to me," whispered Elizabeth. "There is no life for me without you. You must come back. I demand it!"

Caroline watched in mute horror as her husband first twitched, then spluttered and finally coughed back into life.

"I knew he would live!" cried Jane.

"He's got a long road to recovery," cautioned Isabella. "He will need months of bed rest but will make a full recovery in the end." Nobody noticed her slip from the library. By morning she would be in Calais. A few days after that she would be in Italy enjoying a prosperous retirement courtesy of Elizabeth's necklace.

Jane and Bingley joyfully clustered around Darcy. Caroline hung back, her mind racing. Nothing had prepared her for this eventuality. Why had Isabella double crossed her? Caroline had to assume that Isabella had told her brother everything. Her first instinct was to dash upstairs to her room and swallow the rest of the poison. But what use was that? It was a blatant admission of guilt and Jane would probably insist on bringing her back to life with the antidote. No, as she watched her husband gasp his way back to life she knew her gutter cunning would have to come up with a better plan than that.

"Don't crowd him," a fiercely protective instinct awoke in Elizabeth. "He needs air." She stroked Darcy's face lovingly, "you're safe now my love."

Darcy's eyes found their focus and he immediately relaxed when he saw that he was being held by Elizabeth. His eyes softened with love and he managed to mouth her name but he was still too weak to speak.

"Shush, rest my love," Elizabeth softly kissed his forehead.

Caroline rushed forward, "Darcy! My darling husband! Whatever happened? Please tell me you are well!"

Bingley roughly grabbed his sister by the shoulders, "Keep away from him you poisoner!"

"Poisoner? Me? Is that what the old crone told you? And you believe her? Darling Charles, say it is not true."

"It is true, else why is he lying there dead but for the antidote?"

"I declare I know not," Caroline's face was sheet white, her eyes stared at her brother wide and innocent. "It is true that I went to my old governess to seek solace and talk of my problems. You see, I am lonely and sad, brother. My marriage is not happy. I had hoped to shield you from the unhappy truth but now you must know everything."

Bingley's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand his sister, "So you did visit that woman. You're admitting that?"

"Yes!" cried Caroline, "But I did not visit her to seek out poison. I went there only to pour out my woes to somebody outside of my social circle. I told her how my husband does not love me, is cold towards me...does not touch me...and she gave me a potion, and charged me a pretty penny for it. She told me that it was a love potion. That I was to administer it that very evening, that no ill would befall him but that in the morning, upon awakening, he would find himself very deeply in love with me."

"Yes, I also went to see 'Midsummers Night Dream" at Dury Lane last week," said Elizabeth.

"It's the truth!" cried Caroline, "as God is my witness! It is the truth. Looking back now, I see that it was a stupid thing to do but Charles I was so very desperate to make Darcy love me! Is it so wrong for a wife to try her best to keep her husband's interest? That was my only ambition."

"If what you say is true, then why is Darcy in the sorry state in which we find him?" said Bingley.

"Because, don't you see! I was double crossed! Double crossed by that accursed Medici woman."

"But why? Why would she do such a thing?"

"Why for money of course! If she had only sold me a harmless love potion she would have made very little out of the deal but by deceiving me and selling me a poison she has made a subsequent fortune by selling the antidote. I saw her take Elizabeth's diamond necklace. How else would a creature like her get her hands on riches such as that."

"This is true," said Bingley slowly. He turned to his wife for guidance.

"I know not what to believe," said Jane. "The incidents of this evening have been so very shocking and extraordinary that I am hardly capable of composing my thoughts. But brother, you said yourself, you never liked Miss de Medici and here we are to balance her word against your loving sister's word, sworn before God..."

Caroline swallowed and allowed her body to relax a fraction as she started to sense that her brother was being won round by his idiotically good natured wife, "Listen to Jane! She is a good woman and recognises the truth when she hears it!"

After a moment Bingley spoke very solemnly, "Sister, in the madness of the moment, I have done you a grave injustice. Please accept my unmitigated apology. I believe you to be nothing but a loving wife to Darcy. You were driven by the purest of motives to seek that Italian charlatan's help. Please try and forget my cruel accusations of this evening."

Caroline flew into her brother's arms and cried tears of pure relief.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Oh, my dearest, sweetest, most loving and loyal sister," cried Bingley tearfully, "I thank you from the bottom of my heart for forgiving me so readily."

Once she had regained her composure, Caroline extricated herself from her brother and walked slowly towards Darcy who was still being cradled by Elizabeth.

"Excuse me," she said icily, "I wish to sit with my husband."

Elizabeth did not move. Darcy stared up at Caroline in mute horror and flinched as she leant forward to stroke his cheek.

"Get away from him. He does not want you near," hissed Elizabeth.

Caroline spun round to her brother, "You see? You see what I have to endure? The coldness! I, his wife, am not even allowed near him to comfort him in his hour of need! Do you blame me for resorting to love potions?" she pulled a small green glass bottle from her dressing gown pocket and waved it angrily at her brother. "But now all is well, now that I know it is not a love potion but a deadly poison then I shall drink my fill and have done with this cruel world!"

Caroline uncorked the bottle and was about to drink from it when Jane and Bingley pounced upon her.

"Dearest sister, no! You must not think of doing such a wicked thing," cried Bingley.

"You are distraught and exhausted by the night's events," said Jane. "Come to bed. I shall get Higginsbottom to make you a draught and I will sit with you until you sleep."

"But what of my dear Darcy?" said Caroline nervously. "I must look after my precious husband. What if he should recover the power of speech and be awake half the night talking paranoid and delusional nonsense? I'm sure I heard Miss Medici say that one of the unfortunate side effects of this drug is talking absolute rot for a good few days afterwards. It should be me who is forced to listen to all that. Nobody else should be so inconvenienced."

"Dearest Caroline, always thinking of the comfort of others. Try to calm yourself," soothed Jane. "Of course you want to look after your husband, as any loving wife would but you are not well. You have had a great shock. Let Elizabeth look after Darcy tonight. She will be very caring and attentive and I am sure will not mind one jot if he keeps her awake half the night."

"But..." began Caroline.

But Jane was firm where she felt herself to be right. Elizabeth allowed herself a bitter smile as a protesting Caroline was escorted from the library.

Darcy awoke from a troubled sleep on the sofa in the library to find Elizabeth tenderly dabbing a cool flannel to his forehead. Upon sight of Elizabeth he immediately relaxed and a single tear of gratitude rolled slowly down his cheek. He slowly mouthed the words "love you" and then it was the turn of Elizabeth to cry.

There was a knock at the door and a concerned Bingley poked his head round.

"How's he doing?"

Elizabeth smiled through her tears. "He's improving."

"Oh good, because Caroline is frantic to see him," and with that the door burst open and Caroline marched in.

"Good morning, my dearest husband. You grow stronger I trust."

Darcy stiffened and refused to look his wife in the eye. Instead he looked at Elizabeth and mouthed the word "Bingley".

"He wants to talk to you," said Elizabeth.

Bingley rushed over to his friend and knelt beside him, "What is it dear fellow?"

Darcy mouthed, "Annulment. I want an annulment."

"Unguent? You want an unguent? Well, of course old boy, you shall have one. Now what sort do you want? I believe Higginsbottom makes three types: goose fat and vinegar (good for clearing up the pox, not that I'd know)," Bingley winked, "beeswax and honey, not sure what that's good for apart from attracting bee. I got stung somewhere very private last time I was trying to rid of my piles with that one. Or last but not least there's beef dripping and mashed potato, again, I'm not what that's good for but I can vouch for it tasting very nice."

"He said 'annulment'," said Elizabeth.

"Oh annulment," said Bingley and then his eyes widened in shock, "Annulment?"

"No, I'm very sure it was 'unguent'," said Caroline.

"It was annulment and you know it," snapped Elizabeth.

"But there must be some mistake. Darcy, my dear friend, you cannot know what you say. Your mind is in a state of unbalance from the poison..."

Darcy shook his head vehemently and with the last vestiges of his energy weakly croaked, "I've. Never. Touched. Her."

"Well, I should hope not!" cried Caroline, "And why should you want to touch such a horrid little poor country thing such as Elizabeth Bennet when you have me?"

"He's talking about you!" cried Elizabeth. "He wants an annulment from you and well you know it!"

"I say!" said Bingley and then when he had recovered sufficiently he turned to his sister, "Is it true that Darcy never...lay with you?"

Caroline breathed in deeply, stood perfectly erect and pointed her nose in the air, "I should say not!"

"Liar!" cried Elizabeth.

"I am not lying. And I can prove it."

"How?" asked Elizabeth.

Caroline smiled sweetly, "Why, I am with child, of course."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"My dearest Caroline," Bingley's eyes shone with emotion, "this is the happiest of all news!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" cried Elizabeth, "she is no more with child that I. She is still a maid. It is clear on her face."

Caroline glowered at Elizabeth before theatrically rolling her eyes heavenward and clutching at her washboard flat stomach and starting to sway back and forth, "Oh, the pain! Make it stop! The baby cannot cope when she vexes me."

"Dear sister!" cried Bingley in alarm as he put his arms out to steady his sister, "Do not take on so. Be calm, for the sake of your unborn child."

"There is no child!" said Elizabeth in exasperation.

Caroline broke free from her brother, "I will be well once I am away from her! As it so happens I have an appointment at my milliner's this morning. I do hope dear Jane will accompany me for if I go unchaperoned there is no telling what odious lies Miss Bennet will spread abroad about me."

"I'm sure my dearest Jane will most happily accompany you."

"Good, and by the time I return, I want her gone!" cried Caroline as she pointed towards Elizabeth. She then went to flounce out the library before remembering to show some display of affection towards her husband, "Oh, and goodbye my dear husband. I shall not be long and when I return we can start to rebuild what others have tried to pull asunder."

Darcy glared at Caroline and mouthed one word with feeling, "Liar!"

"Yes, love ya right back," said Caroline.

She left the library puzzling over where she had put her bottle of ether.

Not half an hour later Caroline exited the milliner's shop unaccompanied. It had been the work of moments to go upstairs to the milliner's cosy parlour and make the milliner and Jane closely inspect her choice of hat trimmings, all of which happened to be liberally dowsed in chloroform. After they passed out, all that remained thereafter was to borrow the milliner's cloak, leave via the tradesmen's entrance and hail a hackney carriage while her brother's carriage remained obliviously outside the front of the shop.

At the East India Club Wickham was holding court. After Darcy waded in and put the kibosh on his dalliance with Lydia and sent her packing back home to Longbourn Wickham had hastily bought a berth to India where he had cooled his heels until the dust had settled. He spent the vast majority of his time over there on his back in a dirty field hospital fighting dysentery and still bore the scar on his left cheek where, in a rage because he would not marry her, Lydia had punched him and her diamond ring had left an impressive gash.

"So then, when I realised that we were fresh out of ammunition, I gave the order to 'fix bayonets'," Wickham took a swig of whisky for dramatic effect.

"What happened next, Wickham, old boy?" asked an elderly gentleman with a blooming red nose."

"Well, I told my men to kneel on one knee and wait for the damned Moguls to do their worst. Things didn't look good, I don't mind telling you. We were in a tiny clearing, surrounded by jungle so they had the element of surprise. Anyway, the moments passed and then we heard the noise again and suddenly from out of the jungle sprang a..."

"Mogul emperor?" guessed the elderly gentleman. "We had to kill a lot of those in my day."

"No, it was a..."

"Elephant? I've shot a few of those in my time. Got some lovely ivory jewellery for the wife. One trod on my foot, the bally oaf. So I shot it then and there. And I still walk with a bally limp. But that's the colonies for you."

"No, it was a tiger!" lied Wickham.

"A tiger, by Jove!"

"Yes, and a bally large one at that. I'll never forget its menacing green eyes and orange stripes," said Wickham as he stared across the room at a picture of a tiger.

"What did you do?"

"Well, there was only one thing I could do, old boy, I waited until I could see the whites of its eyes and then jabbed him good and proper in the heart just as he leap up to devour me."

"Bally good show what! But, I say, do tigers have whites of their eyes?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly white, just a bit less green than the very green bit."

A waiter came up to Wickham bearing a calling card on a silver platter. Hoping against hope that one of his creditors hadn't succeeded in tracking him down to his club, Wickham tentatively picked up the card. It was from Mrs. Caroline Darcy. So the old gall had managed to get her man after all. He'd been in India at the time of the wedding but even from such a distance it had got back to him that the matter had not been reported in the papers as it ought. He had wondered vaguely at the time why Darcy had settled for Caroline Bingley when he had the fabulously wealthy (and even better – sickly) Anne de Bourgh handed to him on a plate. And now, the mysterious Mrs. Darcy was waiting to see him outside his club.

Fired up with curiosity he excused himself from his courtiers and went to meet Mrs Wickham. A hooded figure bathed in shadow bayed him get into her carriage. He clambered aboard and she commanded the driver to take them round the square. Once they were moving she removed her hood to reveal blond curls and a mischievously pretty face. Wickham's interest was piqued. Caroline smiled.

"I have a proposition to put to you."

"I am all ears," replied he with a pleasant smile in return.

"How would you like your son to be the next heir to Pemberley?"


	6. Chapter 6

Back in the milliner's parlour Jane's eyelashes began to flutter as she regained consciousness.

"So do you think the green satin trim or the purple?" asked Caroline.

"Er...sorry, I...must have dropped off," said Jane groggily.

"Don't worry, it's probably the heat from the fire. And your age."

"My age? But I'm only twenty four."

"That's quite old, dear sister. I can see that you have a few crows' eyes already. Never mind, you'll most probably die in child birth anyway."

"Caroline! That's a dreadful thing to say!"

"What? I was only trying to be of comfort. You wouldn't want my brother seeing you grow all old and horrible would you?"

"Well, no I suppose not," admitted Jane.

"Well then. Now, I am bored of shopping, let us tarry here no longer."

"But the trimmings for your hat..."

"Oh, a pox upon my trimmings! The milliners asleep and I need to get back to my darling husband and make sure that the servants are nursing him properly."

The carriage jogged from side to side as they made their way back home and Caroline could not prevent smiling to herself. After her announcement of being with child this morning she had but two thoughts in her head; one was to find a prospective father for her soon to be conceived child and the other was to lose her maidenhead. In Wickham she had found the perfect prospect for both; he was handsome and, more importantly, Darcy could not bear the mention of his name (although she knew not why) just as she could not bear Elizabeth. There was a perfect symmetry in her plan. Caroline's eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed. All her life she had lived within the narrow remit set out for her by society and her family and all her life she had been unhappy and frustrated. She had spent year upon year merely existing. Now she had ripped up the rule book and was at last living by her own rules and she felt thrillingly alive for the first that she could remember.

Back at the house she stormed into the library only to discover it empty.

"Where is my husband? Where is my darling!" cried Caroline. "Has he died? Is he dead?" Caroline tried hard to keep the note of hope out of her voice.

"Dearest sister, do not distress yourself, Darcy makes good progress," called out Bingley. "We are all removed upstairs. Come up and see."

"Oh, I am so relieved, dear brother," Caroline ripped off her bonnet and gloves and flung them at the parlour maid before stomping upstairs.

Darcy was tucked up in bed in one of the spare rooms. Caroline gritted her teeth as through the open door she witnessed her husband and Elizabeth hold hands and, if she was not very much mistaken, exchange whispered words of love. That Bennet woman had no shame. Caroline's hand itched to slap the brazen hussy's arrogant cheek.

Bingley and Dr. Watson were standing just outside the bedroom.

"Caroline dearest, Dr. Watson has just made a full examination of Darcy and is greatly encouraged by his progress."

"I am glad to hear it. I bid you good day, Doctor. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go to my husband."

"Yes, yes of course," said Bingley before frowning and biting his lip. "Er, there's just one other thing..."

"Yes?"

"Darcy wants to make sure that you really are with child. Dr. Watson is going to examine you."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Caroline's eyes widened in horror. She backed away slowly, "No, no this cannot be!"

"It is for the best," said Bingley as he walked towards his sister, "Darcy is insisting upon it and he is your husband. There is nothing I can do." He whispered, "It is because the balance of his mind is disturbed. The doctor assures me that it will take less than a moment. He just needs to feel your stomach."

"He will do no such thing!" cried Caroline archly.

"But my dear, don't you see, that it is best this situation is settled speedily and once and for all," reasoned Bingley.

"Dear brother, has it come to this? That I am to be touched by a common working man?"

"A professional man," corrected Bingley.

"I will not hear of it!"

"I am afraid you have no choice in the matter. Your husband has decreed it will be so."

Caroline closed her eyes and swallowed. The game was up. Suddenly she felt impossibly weary.

Elizabeth came to the door and spoke to the doctor, "Darcy also insists that you check to make sure that his wife's maidenhood is still intact." The doctor looked puzzled.

"He seeks an annulment," explained Elizabeth.

"This is monstrous!" screeched Caroline, "Charles, are you to stand by and watch as I am treated thus barbarously?"

Bingley spread his hands before him, "I have no choice, dearest sister. My hands are tied. You are the legal property of your husband."

"Yes, just like his dog!" spat Caroline.

"Come now sister, do not cause a scene. It is not good for the child."

Caroline took a breath as her mind raced to find a way out of this situation. After a moment and in a calm voice she said, "As a dutiful wife I will of course submit to any examination my husband requires. But first, may I request a moment alone with my husband?"

"Of course, dear Caroline," said Bingley.

"But we will stay by the door and hear everything," warned Elizabeth.

"As you please," said Caroline as she sauntered past them and shut the door.

From outside the others listened intently.

"Dearest husband, why are you putting me through this? Why are you putting our child through this?"

Only a faint muffle could be heard of Darcy's response.

"Dearest husband, not now, please I beg of you! Not while others listen, for shame!"

The listeners eyes' widened in surprise when they heard the bed springs start to squeak, loudly and rhythmically.

"Oh darling, we mustn't, they will hear!" Caroline's breathless protestations rang out

as the bed squeaked louder and faster. "Oh, you're so big and so masterful but please...this is wrong, so wrong...but it feels so right!"

The bed squeaking built up to a giddying speed, Caroline screamed out in ecstasy and then all was silent. A moment later a breathless, wild haired Caroline opened the door and demurely said, "Come Dr. Watson, let us go to my room. You may now examine me at your leisure." She had difficulty in suppressing a giggle as her brother, Elizabeth and the doctor surveyed her with open mouths and bulging eyes. The doctor shook his head disbelievingly as he followed Caroline's sashaying figure into her room. As she walked Caroline tried to regain her breath. Jumping up and down on Darcy's bed had been invigorating but tiring.

From behind Caroline's door there then came screams of various pitch and intensity mixed with cries of "Oh, doctor no! Do not touch me there! It pains so! I declare that you are pushing the baby clean out!"

immerged some time later followed by Caroline who casually knotted her dressing gown cord as she walked towards Darcy's room. Elizabeth and Bingley clustered round Darcy's bed to hear the doctor's findings. Caroline smiled and struck a seductive pose in the doorway, her peach satin dressing gown flowing in an elegant line to the floor.

"Well," began the doctor, "I was unable to ascertain pregnancy for fear of hurting Mrs. Darcy. The area was too tender to examine and I dared not risk damaging or losing the child should there be one. But this I can say, Mrs. Darcy most certainly is not a maid. Indeed, I can safely say, there is plenty of physical evidence to prove without doubt that she last had sexual relations not more than half an hour ago. So, Mr. Darcy, need I say that an annulment would now be out of the question."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Losing her virginity to Wickham in the back of a hackney carriage had been uncomfortable, humiliating and unmemorable but once Darcy had gone public with wanting an annulment Caroline had known that there wasn't a moment to be lost. A doctor could be called at any time to check her maidenhood. But all the pain and degradation of her coupling with Wickham had been absolutely worth it the moment she saw the dismayed look on her husband's face when he was told he could no longer apply for an annulment. Even better had been the look of utter heartbreak which had marred Elizabeth Bennet's pretty features. How it must have hurt her to think that Darcy and Caroline were having relations when in reality he had never touched her and she had been reduced to jumping up and down on his bed like a child in an effort to simulate love making.

"And so there you have it," Caroline sauntered towards the shocked huddle around Darcy's bedside. "As you have seen and no doubt...heard, my husband and I have a normal and healthy and, dare I say...vigorously passionate relationship. So I do hope that there will be no more talk of an annulment."

Darcy gritted his teeth and mustered all his strength, "I've never touched her."

"Darling, so naughty of you to tell such blatant untruths," Caroline's laugh was tinny and hallow. "Everybody heard you having your wicked way with me. Or what are you suggesting? That somehow I was ravished while at my milliners, in front of my brother's wife? Not very likely is it. And highly offensive to suggest. Have a care, dear husband, for if you go any further down that track my brother just might be forced to challenge you to a duel. Now, I think that we are all agreed that the priority now has to be the safety and wellbeing of this tiny precious life I carry within me," she touched her flat stomach through her peach dressing gown. "I have been put through quite enough destress for one day. My poor husband, the balance of his mind is disturbed since his...illness. I do not blame him for what he has put me through but now I must insist that she," Caroline pointed and glared at Elizabeth, "leave this house immediately! She has done nothing but simper and make love to my husband while filling his ears with her poisonous lies." Caroline clasped her stomach and grimaced in make believe pain. "I want her gone! Now! Before I lose this child!"

Elizabeth, devastated at the thought of Darcy so blatantly having relations with Caroline while she was forced to listen, rose unsteadily from the bed and managed not to break down until she was alone within the confines of her room. She left the house soon afterwards.

"Thank God!" as the front door slammed shut Caroline collapsed on to her husband's bed, "at last she's gone and now..." Caroline traced Darcy's chiselled cheek with a sharp finger nail, "and now I can look after my husband all by myself, just as a good wife aught."

Darcy looked back at her, his face a mixture of fear and disgust.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth stayed a few days with her aunt and uncle Gardiner but found the proximity to Darcy a torture. She was back at Longbourn within the week.

"Dear Lizzie, you have been sorely missed," said Mr. Bennet, "I hope that, now you are back, you will be able to drum some sense into your very silly sisters."

Elizabeth smiled sadly and bit back her tears as she hugged her beloved father.

"Why did you not stay longer in London?" inquired Mrs. Bennet, "You will not find a husband here. The militia have left and I know not when another will come. You should have stayed on in London and found yourself a husband. I do declare that your aunt Gardiner is being very lazy and selfish in this matter. What is she playing at? If I were to go to London I would find husbands for all my girls in a matter of days. But my nerves will not allow me to make the journey."

"Come now," said Mr. Bennet, "all is not lost. At least we will have some male company at Longbourn soon."

"Who father? Who?" cried Lydia and Kitty.

"Why, just this morning I received a letter from Mr. Collins saying that he is coming to visit. He will be staying with the Lucas's but it would appear that he has invited himself to dinner tomorrow."

"That odious man," sniffed Mrs. Bennet sourly, "is it not enough that he is to make us homeless one day? Must he eat us out of house and home, also?"

"My dear lady," said Mr. Bennet, "do not forget that he is a man of God, therefore bread and water will be a sufficient repast."

"Oh, nonsense!" cried Mrs. Bennet, "I will not having him telling the Lucas's that I do not provide a good table. But really, it is all wasted on him. For what use is a married man?"

Elizabeth smiled weakly but felt weary. For better or for worse, this was her family and her foreseeable future.

After a lifetime of sharing her room and her bed with Jane the room now seemed lifeless and lonely without the presence of her beloved sister. The next morning Elizabeth lay in bed alone, listening to the daily light the fire. It no longer felt like her room, yet she had no other.

After breakfast Elizabeth went to the library. After knocking she opened the oak door to find her father staring at her over his prince nez glasses.

"For one fearful moment I thought it was going to be Mrs. Bennet come to talk over tonight's menu," said Mr. Bennet. "Come in, dear Lizzie. You are always welcome. But what is it? There is something about your eyes, ever since you have returned. They have lost their sparkle. Have you been disappointed in love?"

"Father," cut in Elizabeth, unable to take anymore of her father's jesting, "I have come to ask you something."

"Well, I rather gathered that."

"I was wondering father, do you have books on...poison?"

Mr. Bennet frowned with surprise and would have answered had not his eyes at that moment caught sight of a tall, ungainly fellow striding across the front lawn. Elizabeth followed her father's gaze.

"Ah, look Lizzie, Mr. Collins, a past beau of yours. He will take your mind off your current woes."

The family congregated in the front room to greet Mr. Collins.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" said Mrs. Bennet, "It seems you have hardly been married a minute before you are back visiting and without your wife. I wonder that Lady Catherine can spare you so often."

"Lady Catherine is all affability. I could not ask for a more generous and caring patron. Do you know, sometimes when I awake I have to pinch myself. Such is my great good fortune in being chosen for a generous living by Lady Catherine that I have to pinch myself to make sure that it is indeed real and not just some glorious dream."

"Oh, I know the feeling," said Mr. Bennet, "I have it every time I awake next to Mrs. Bennet."

Mrs. Bennet momentarily smiled in spite of her ill humour at having to waste a leg of mutton on a married man.

Mr. Collins went on to explain the reason for his visit, "I am come here today to announce that my dearest Charlotte, who has made me the happiest of all men, has recently made me even happier. Dearest Charlotte is with child. There will soon be a Master Collins in this world. Is that not a wonderful thought?"

"Delightful," said Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth blushed at her mother's rudeness and rushed to give her congratulations.

"Thank you, dear cousin. Charlotte is disappointed at not to be able to tell you herself but she must take every care not to over tire herself. I do hope you will understand why I had to leave her resting in our humble abode."

"Yes, well comfort yourself that you will not always be living in a humble parsonage," muttered Mrs. Bennet, "great comfort awaits you presently. Just as great discomfort awaits us. How some people live I do not know. I am sure my conscience would burden me something shocking if I were to make an innocent and defenceless family of women homeless. But there, we are all different. And you have arrived far too early to dine. Oh well, you can spend the day in the library with Mr. Bennet."

Mr. Bennet glared at his wife and Lydia and Kitty giggled. Unable to stand anymore of her family Elizabeth stood up and declared her intention to pick some flowers for the house. Mr. Collins leapt from his seat.

"May I accompany you, fair cousin. My wife encourages me to spend many hours tending to my garden and now, I must confess, I am very good at it. Lady Catherine sees toiling the earth as a fitting occupation for a man of the cloth."

"But you're not a tailor," said Kitty.

"He means a priest," said Mary.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, picked up the trug by the back door and walked into the garden, closely followed by her cousin. She gritted her teeth and hoped to be able to divine some sensible about her friend, Charlotte.

Elizabeth strolled towards the kitchen garden as Mr. Collins spoke.

"You are even fairer that I recall, dear cousin."

Elizabeth frowned. It sounded as though he was trying to court her. Eventually she replied quietly with a small, "thank you."

"I will be frank with you," continued Mr. Collins, "I will not meddle with your feelings. Charlotte has many wonderful qualities but she is not a handsome woman."

"Mr. Collins!" cried Elizabeth as she swung round to face him. "You are talking of your wife who, as we speak, bears your child."

"I speak merely as I find," said Mr. Collins, "I have taken holy orders. I must not lie. I must tell the truth no matter how difficult or painful. My wife is ugly. There, it is said."

"Mr. Collins, how could you? You are being cruel and disrespectful to your dear wife."

"No, I am telling the agonising truth. You shall hear it all."

"I have no wish to, Sir."

"It matters not. You need to hear it and you shall hear it."

They had entered one of the green houses. Mr. Collins stood by the door, not letting Elizabeth leave."

"Out of my way, sir!"

"Not before you hear what I have to say. I speak from the heart when I say that Charlotte is very dear to me. She is a very good sort of a wife for a parson in that she knows how to plant runner beans along poles and make pies from left over cold cuts, she even knows how to white wash a pantry but there is something that she does not know. She does not know the art of love."

"Mr. Collins!"

"I speak the truth. There is no passion between us. No vital chemistry. When I perform my marital duty my wife just lies there as stiff as a board, looking past my head at the ceiling and the ceiling is no longer interesting. She sealed over the cracks some months ago."

"Sir, if you do not let me pass immediately then I shall have to poke you with this trowel. Charlotte is your wife. You can have none other and she carries your child. Please desist from this conversation."

"Ah, but that is the point, is it not? She is with child and we both know that there is a high probability that she will die during childbirth, one in three I believe, so therefore I am...laying the ground work, as it were. Fair Elizabeth, my feelings are still as they were last spring. If Charlotte dies during childbirth will you do me the great honour of becoming my second wife?"


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Vile man!" cried Elizabeth as she jabbed her trowel in his prominent stomach.

"Ouch!" Mr. Collins leapt back from the door and Elizabeth made good her escape. She dashed across the lawn, trug and trowel in one hand and her other hand holding her bonnet upon her head. To her surprise her mother was excitedly beckoning her from the back door.

"Lizzy, come quickly! An express has come for you!"

Elizabeth arrived at the back door, bosom heaving with exertion, "An express? For me?"

"Yes, yes, come, come! Everybody is waiting in the front parlour for you," Mrs. Bennet impatiently ushered her daughter in and followed her along the corridoor. "My, my but it is all happening this morning!"

Elizabeth ripped off her bonnet and handed it to the daily before walking into the front parlour. Lydia and Kitty were sitting down but looking excited and on the verge of giggling. There was even a becoming rosy hue in Mary's usually pallid cheek. Her father was standing talking to a young handsome stranger who had his back to the door.

"Ah, here she is!" said Mr. Bennet.

The handsome stranger turned round.

"Larwood!" cried Elizabeth. Larwood was Darcy's trusted manservant and one of the last people she expected to see standing in the front parlour of Longbourn.

"Miss Bennet," said Larwood with a bow. He handed her a small parcel and an envelope. "My master wanted me to hand deliver these to you."

Elizabeth looked uncertainly at the small oblong package wrapped in brown paper and string.

"Well, don't just stand there looking at it!" cried Mrs. Bennet. "Open it before my nerves get the better of me. Kitty run and fetch my fan! I feel a hot flush coming on." and then after a coy glance at Larwood, "the black lace one."

"But mother, I want to see what is in the parcel!" protested Kitty.

Elizabeth took a breath and unwrapped the object of mystery. There was a collective gasp as she revealed its contents – it was her Queen Anne diamond necklace.

"My necklace!" breathed Elizabeth. She looked at Larwood in wonder, "but how...?"

"My master explains everything in his letter."

"Lizzy! How can you be so careless as to leave your necklace in London?" chidded Mrs. Bennet. "Why anything could have happened to it and then where would you be? Not that you should have been given it in the first place. I was dead set against it. Why that necklace would pay for a home for us all once your father is dead."

"Mrs. Bennet, I would be most grateful if you would stop talking about my death. Second only to your nerves it seems to be your favourite topic of conversation. For many years now I have felt as though I am attending my own funeral. Merely talking about it won't hasten the event, you know."

"Oh wretched man! I do not want to hasten the event and you know it well! But one of us has to worry about what will become of us after you are gone as you surely never will."

Even as she struggled to understand how she came to be once more in possession of her necklace Elizabeth blushed. It was dispiriting that Larwood should be subjected to such an inappropriate domestic scene between her parents so soon. She prayed that he would not repeat all to Darcy.

Kitty returned with her mother's black lace fan which Mrs. Bennet proceeded to flutter coquettishly hither and dither. "Larwood, you must stay and have refreshments after your journey."

"My instructions are to return directly to London unless Miss Bennet wishes to send a letter back with me. If that is the case then I am to wait."

"Oh yes, you must wait!" cried Mrs. Bennet, "but Lizzie has much to help me with today so she will not be able to reply to Mr. Darcy until tomorrow."

"Of course, I understand. I will depart now and stay in Meryton and return tomorrow morning."

"What work mother?" said Elizabeth.

"Hush girl!" hissed Mrs. Bennet, "No Larwood, you staying in Meryton will never do. You must stay here with us."

"Well, Mrs. Bennet if you're sure."

"I am. Now, go to the kitchen and Hill will take care of you. There is fresh bread and cold cuts and cheese. Then come and find me in the garden, I wish to hear more of London and er...my daughter, Jane, of course." Mrs. Bennet's eyes wrinkled as she smiled invitingly thus exposing her yellowing teeth.

Elizabeth cringed inwardly at her mother's behaviour before retiring to her room to read Darcy's letter in private. Her heart thumped and her fingers trembled as she broke the seal and began to read;

"Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter, by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments or renewal of those offers which a week ago were so disgusting to you. In my defence all I can say is that I swear before God that I have never had relations with my wife. All you heard that morning was Caroline jumping up and down on my bed like a crazed banshee. By the time she had finished my only sensation was one of overwhelming sea sickness. I hope that in time you will believe me as my thoughts and feelings remain with you, but no more of that.

As for me, I am still not recovered and use the last of my energy to write to you. I entrust this letter to Larwood as I do not trust Caroline not to intercept my correspondence. She guards me closely and for the sake of domestic felicity Bingley and your sister are keeping their distance and letting her nurse me. To that end they have recently left on a trip to Ramsgate. But Caroline wishes me harm. Of that there can be no doubt. She feeds me strange medicines and stands over me while I swallow them but as soon as her back is turned I rid myself of them.

Her behaviour is now quite strange. She breakfasts alone in her room and has taken to wearing gloves at all times. She seems quite happy, especially after one of her frequent trips to her milliner, but I believe her mind to be seriously disturbed.

I hope that as you read this you are once more in possession of your diamond necklace. Larwood is a resourceful chap. Once I learned of you sacrificing your necklace in order that I may be saved I related the matter to Larwood. We both agreed that there was a fair chance that Madame de Medici had fled to the continent. Larwood soon caught up with her in a notorious backwater of Calais where jewels are bought and sold without questions being asked. I sent him off with enough gold sovereigns to be able to coax the necklace from Miss Medici and thus you now find it back in your safe possession. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your very great sacrifice and hope that this letter finds you in good health. I will only add, God bless you.

Fitzwilliam Darcy"

Elizabeth stared at the letter and quickly reread it. Could it be true that Darcy and Caroline had not be making mad passionate love on her last morning in Bruton Street? With pain she recalled the boisterous sound of bed springs being bounced on and the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. The pain pierced her heart as she remembered Caroline's cries of animal lust being fulfilled. But what had she really witnessed? Could be as Darcy said, that Caroline was merely jumping on the bed and imitating the sounds of love?

In any event Darcy and his manservant had gone to extraordinary lengths in order to retrieve her necklace and for that alone she must be truly grateful. Perhaps the love between them was not dead. Perhaps there was hope.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

While Elizabeth was in her room reading and rereading Darcy's letter, Mr. Collins petulantly demanded to talk to Mrs. Bennet.

"I've already told you Mr. Collins, we're having mutton for dinner."

"I did not wish to inquire about dinner. I have already prepared myself for the fact that it will not compare to the gourmet delights that grace Lady Catherine's table. Nothing ever could. But do not distress yourself Mrs. Bennet, I do not expect the same exquisite heights of deliciousness when I dine at Longbourn."

"Do you not?" said Mrs. Bennet sourly, "Well, all I will say is that judging by the way you now fill your jacket you must dine at Lady Catherine's a good deal."

"Oh, I do!" beamed Mr. Collins. "But now I must talk to you about something of a delicate nature."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and rolled her eyes impatiently. "Well, be quick about it! I have a rendez-vous in the garden. What are you wishing to talk of?"

Mr. Collins was canny enough to know that if her nerves and Mr. Bennet's impending death were Mrs. Bennet's two top favourite topics of conversation, then marriage was certainly her third. Therefore when he mentioned the magic word he was not at all surprised to see Mrs. Bennet's frown immediately replaced by an excited smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

"Oh, well if it is of marriage you wish to speak then I am all ears!" cried Mrs. Bennet.

"Shall we go somewhere a little more private?" ventured Mr. Collins.

Soon they were alone in Mrs. Bennet's sitting room. Mrs. Bennet was smiling expectantly at Mr. Collins, "Well, speak Mr. Collins! Speak! Do not be unkind to my nerves. What is it that you have to say? Do you know of some fine, eligible bachelor who will do for one of my girls?"

"In a way...yes."

"In a way?" puzzled Mrs. Bennet.

"Well, Mrs. Bennet the situation is this. As you are aware, my dear Charlotte is expecting a happy event."

Mrs. Bennet's face clouded over, "Happy for some."

"Yes, quite. And we all pray for a safe delivery."

Mrs. Bennet fleetingly sneered.

"But you must own that there is a very real chance, a sad probability that...my dear Charlotte might die."

Mrs. Bennet perked up, "Do go on."

"And if this sad event were to take place then I would need..."

"Another wife!" Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands together in glee.

Mr. Collins nodded solemnly.

"And you mean to marry one of my girls?" ventured Mrs. Bennet.

"Exactly! I see we understand each other."

"Oh we do! We do! Now, who were you thinking of? Kitty is coming along very well and not coughing nearly so much."

"No, not Kitty."

"Mary then? She is so plain and studious, no other man will ever look at her, she will make an ideal parson's wife."

"No, not Mary."

"Lydia?"

Mr. Collins's brow knitted in disapproval, "Certainly not! That unfortunate incident involving Wickham last summer showed her to be deeply unfit to ever be a parson's wife. And besides, she is too tall and has not the shape that I am looking for."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips, "Well then who?"

"The incident with Wickham must necessarily cast a shadow over all your daughters..."

"Well, a little fluffy cloud, maybe..."

"I want Elizabeth."

"But she won't have you Mr. Collins."

"But now that there is a shadow..."

"Yes, but you know how she is. That girl is a law unto herself."

"But Elizabeth must recognise that her chances of making a good match are now much reduced. This is a chance to be seized."

"It's not me you have to convince Mr. Collins. I'd be very happy to see Lizzie settled as a parson's wife. Just so long as it's not too nearby. I do find her headstrong nature so vexing."

"A headstrong wife will never do, certainly not for a parson."

"Headstrong? Did I say headstrong? No, no Mr. Bennet you must have misheard me. I meant to say...er...leg strong..."

"Leg strong?"

"Yes."

Mr. Collins wore a puzzled frown, "Whatever does it mean?"

"Well, you know, the way she insists on walking everywhere, even when the horses are free. All that walking hither and dither has made her legs so very strong...so I imagine..." Mrs. Bennet coughed and changed the subject, "If you are set on having my Lizzie then the person you must convince is Mr. Bennet. Although he is no better than her and has some peculiar ideas and I do declare that he cares not a jot for what happens to his family after he is dead. But if Charlotte were to die and you were to marry Lizzie well, then that would be a problem solved."

Mr. Collins thought out loud, "Yes, if I could gain Mr. Bennet's consent then she would have to marry me or risk being sued for breach of promise."

"Oh, it would be the answer to my prayers," cried Mrs. Bennet. "Come! Let us go to Mr. Bennet now and plead your case."

When Elizabeth came down from her room some time later her father beckoned her into the library.

"Father, what is it? What is the matter?"

Mr. Bennet gave a chuckle, "Oh Lizzie, your cousin does not disappoint. He is as absurd as ever."

"In what way?" asked Elizabeth cautiously.

"Why, in the most delightful way! He and Mrs. Bennet have just been in here. You will never guess why. You will never guess their latest plot and stratagem."

Elizabeth felt faint, "Will I not?"

"What do you think but that oaf of a parson has asked to marry you again! Is it not delightful? Are you not highly diverted? He has a wife and is already lining up another!"

Elizabeth forced a smile that did not reach her eyes, "And you refused him of course..."

"Refused him? I did no such thing! How could I refuse a man who has given me so much pleasure and entertainment?"

Elizabeth tried to swallow down her panic, "What did you say to him, Father?"

"Why I told him that upon Charlotte's death you were his. He made me sign an agreement. I hope I signed it correctly for I could hardly see for laughing."

"Father, you didn't! Tell me you jest!"

"Now, now, calm yourself Lizzie. He has a wife, remember. He's just a greedy fellow who doesn't like to concede defeat."

"I hope you are joking, Father." Elizabeth left the library with her father's laughter ringing in her ears, only to be met with a commotion in the hallway. Elizabeth grabbed hold of Lydia and asked what had happened.

"Oh Lord! Master Lucas has just arrived carrying an express for Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins read it, turned pale as a sheet and started weeping like an infant. Mother is comforting him in the front parlour."

Elizabeth dashed into the front parlour to find Mr. Collins crying into a cushion and Mrs. Bennet sitting beside him and smiling joyfully.

"What is it? What has happened?" cried Elizabeth.

"It is your poor friend Charlotte," said Mrs. Bennet trying hard to keep a note of glee out of her voice.

"What? What of Charlotte?" Elizabeth's chest started to pound.

"Why, she went into labour early, gave birth and now, by all accounts, is having a very bad time of it. Not expected to last the night."

"No!" cried Elizabeth.

"The child was still born," said Mrs. Bennet, "which will make it easier for a second wife."

"Mother! How could you say something so wicked?" Elizabeth slowly approached the crying figure. "I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mr. Collins."

Without removing his head from the cushion he grabbed at Elizabeth's hand, "You are all that I have left now, dearest cousin."

"No! No! Do not say such a thing! Charlotte will survive, she is young and strong."

"Not so very young," said Mrs. Bennet.

"Mother!"

"If Charlotte has childbed fever then she will be dead by morning."

"Mother, please stop!" Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. It was so sad that Charlotte had lost her child but the thought of losing her dear friend was too painful to contemplate.

"Mothers must always be practical," said Mrs. Bennet, "We must always be strong and think positively. We do not have time for romantic notions and niceties. Just think Lizzie, tomorrow you could be engaged to be married! Is it not exciting! Two daughters married! What a delight! And Longbourn safe at last!" Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands in delight. "I have just had a thought, if we arrange the wedding quickly we shall be in time to use the yellow roses from the garden for garlands and posies. What a happy coincidence! It was meant to be! Lizzie, have I not always said that I see you getting married holding yellow roses?"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

In a state of great distress Elizabeth hurried to the library.

"Whatever is the matter my dear child?" Mr. Bennet tipped his head forward and peeped over the rim of his prince-nez.

"Charlotte has lost her child and is seriously ill herself."

Mr. Bennet stood up and hugged his favourite daughter, "My dearest child, it is a very sad time but you must try to be strong. Charlotte would want you to be strong, for her."

"It is all so horrible. Mother is talking as if she is already dead. She is at this moment sitting in the front parlour with Mr. Collins planning our wedding. How could she, father? How could she be so unfeeling?"

"Mrs. Bennet is a law unto herself. I confess that I gave up on trying to instil some sense into her many years ago. But Lizzie, remember this, it is not that she wants harm to befall Charlotte but that she wants good fortune to befall you."

Elizabeth took a step back from her father. Her tear stained face looked aghast, "Good fortune? Marrying Mr. Collins is good fortune?"

Mr. Bennet's face hardened, "Yes Lizzie, it is."

"No! Father, how can you say such a thing?" she staggered back a step further.

"Because it is true."

"No!"

"Elizabeth, it is unpalatable but you must understand that since Lydia's...indiscretion it is going to be extremely difficult for any of you to find good matches."

"Jane married Bingley, a man of wealth and good standing."

"But Jane captured Bingley's affections before Lydia ran off with that rapscallion Wickham. And remember, Lydia had to be brought home kicking and screaming. It was not done quietly. No sensible man of reputation is going to offer his hand to my remaining daughters now. So yes, I do call it good fortune if Mr. Collins renews his suit to you. Oh, my dearest girl, do not look at me in such horror. I am well aware that Mr. Collins is not attractive to you – to anyone. In an ideal world he would not be my choice for you but we have to work within the bounds of reality. And the reality is that he can provide you with respectability, standing in society, a roof over your head, children and financial independence. As a woman alone you will never have any of these things. Yes, you have the necklace. You will not starve but it will be half a life."

"I will be deliriously happy to live half a life, as you call it, if it means that I will evade a life with Mr. Collins. Father, you cannot mean what you say! He is not sensible. You cannot wish me married to a fool."

"Lizzie beggars cannot be choosers. By marrying Mr. Collins you will bring distinct advantages to both yourself and your family. Once you are respectfully married to a parson it will increase Kitty and Mary's chances of finding a husband. Lydia I have given up on. My only hope for her is that I am able to one day palm her off on a passing gypsy. And Lizzie think of it, if you marry Collins we will retain Longbourn. Your mother and sisters, even if they don't marry, will always have a home."

"Oh father, what has happened to you?" cried Elizabeth before running to her room.

Mr. Bennet called after her, "Lydia's disgrace woke me up!" and then he repeated it once more, softly to himself.

Mrs. Bennet impatiently flapped her fan as she sat on the oak bench under the honeysuckle bower.

"Oh, where can Larwood be?"

"I saw him looking at the daily. He is probably making free with her as we speak," said Kitty.

"Do not say such things!" Mrs. Bennet rapped Kitty sharply over the knuckles with her fan.

"Ouch!" cried Kitty before contenting herself with a coughing fit.

"And do stop coughing! You will tear my nerves to shreds!"

"But lord, is not Larwood very handsome, mother?" giggled Lydia.

Mrs. Bennet's noise wrinkled when she smiled, "Oh, but he is! And I do declare that he is the very spit of a young red coat who I was once very partial to, before I met your father."

"Oh, how I wish my father had been a handsome redcoat," cried Lydia.

"Yes, so do I," said Mrs. Bennet.

"But if your father had been somebody other than our father you would not be the same person that you are. You would have different wishes and desires and so therefore cannot say that you wish your father to be a different man," reasoned Mary.

"What?" frowned Lydia.

"Oh do be quiet, Mary! Your nonsensical ramblings aggravate my nerves no end. Haven't you got a book to read or something?"

"I was only saying..."

"Well don't!" snapped Mrs. Bennet, "Kitty, go to the house and tell Larwood to come to the bower directly. Mary, you go with her and neither of you are to return with him, else between you, I shall not have a steady nerve left in my system."

"But mother..."

Mrs. Bennet lifted her closed flan as if she were Lady Justice lifting her sword, "I shall discuss the subject no more."

Kitty and Mary departed reluctantly leaving Mrs. Bennet and Lydia in a giggly state of nervous anticipation.

"Is it not delightful to once more have a handsome, young man at Longbourn?" cried Mrs. Bennet.

"It is. Lord, I have not been this happy since the militia left Meryton."

"I neither!"

"But mother, is it not a shame that Larwood is a mere servant?" pouted Lydia, "After all, one cannot marry a servant, can one?"

"No," agreed Mrs. Bennet, "but many masters and mistresses find pleasure in their servants, nonetheless!"

Mother and daughter burst into peels of laughter at this risqué comment. After a moment Mrs. Bennet became serious once more.

"Now my dearest, do you remember me teaching you the art of flirting with a fan?"

"Oh mother, that is so old fashioned, we are not living in the court of King Charles. Why if a handsome young fellow catches my eye I make sure he knows of it by telling him so directly!"

"But using a fan is the more ladylike way to courtship. Now listen, when I do this," Mrs. Bennet placed her fan across her heart, "this means 'you have won my heart' and this," she pressed the ebony handle to her lips, "means 'kiss me'." Lydia giggled appreciatively.

Encouraged Mrs. Bennet continued, "doing this," she drew her fan across her right cheek, "means 'I love you'. There are many more gestures to learn but hopefully," she chortled, "those are the only ones I will have to use this afternoon!"

Mother and daughter giggled together until they looked up and caught sight of Larwood striding across the lawn. "Oh, there he is! Is he not a fine figure of a man? Oh, be still my beating heart! Oh Lydia, I am quite overcome, I feel such flutterings and tremblings! I do wish I had my snuff box to hand."

A bemused Larwood now stood before them, "Mrs. Bennet, you wished to see me?"

"Yes, yes, I did indeed. Come, sit down," Mrs. Bennet tapped the bench beside her with her fan.

Larwood frowned, removed his hat and scratched his head. This was highly irregular. He glanced around in an attempt to find an escape or diversion, finding none he swallowed, accepted his fate and entered the bower.

"Yes, indeed."

"The honeysuckle smells most intoxicatingly pungent at night," Mrs. Bennet's nose and eyes wrinkled in a smile, "we will come back here after dinner and you will see what I mean."

"Oh, but I believe you," said Larwood quickly.

Mrs. Bennet's answer was a wink and a glint of yellow tooth.

"Now Larwood, tell me a little about yourself," Mrs Bennet lost no time in putting her fan to good use by placing it repeatedly across her heart."

"Er...well, what exactly would you like to know?" Larwood eyed her fan gesture nervously.

"Are you married or single?" said Lydia.

"I'm...single," he answered warily.

"Lord, you would not long be single if I were a parlour maid!" declared Lydia.

"But you are not a parlour maid, you are a gentleman's daughter and would do well to remember it," said Mrs. Bennet brusquely before proceeding to draw her fan across her right cheek.

"Are you a man of property, Larwood?" Mrs. Bennet placed the handle of her closed fan seductively to her withered lips.

"Not yet, but I plan to invest in a property or a business, or perhaps both, soon."

Mrs. Bennet sat bolt upright and her eyes widened, "Really? How very interesting! Have you come into a fortune recently?"

Larwood looked shifty for a moment, "Er...yes, I recently inherited from an aunt and well, my master is a generous employer."

"And when you have property and a business you will leave your employment and can marry where you wish. You will no longer be a servant. I do hope that when the time comes you will come and visit us regularly at Longbourn?" said Mrs. Bennet hopefully.

"No."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and opened and closed her fan several times in quick succession.

"I mean to say, I enjoy working for my master too well to give it up."

"But none of us can marry you while you remain a servant" said a forlorn Lydia.

"Well, we should like you to visit all the same," said Mrs. Bennet. "Do you find this part of the country agreeable?"

"Very."

"So you will visit us again soon...?" asked Mrs. Bennet hopefully.

"I would think it improbable," said Larwood.

Mrs. Bennet sniffed and alternated between opening and closing her fan and then drawing the closed fan pointedly through her hand."

An awkward silence followed until Elizabeth was spotted walking across the lawn with a letter in her hand. Larwood shot up off the bench and bowed.

"What do you want?" asked Mrs. Bennet ill naturedly.

"Larwood, kindly give this letter to your master."

"I will madam, I will leave immediately." Larwood took the letter and strode across the lawn, making good his escape and pretending not to hear Mrs. Bennet's cries after him.

"But you must stay for dinner, we are having mutton!"

Moments later they heard the sound of horse hoofs on gravel and knew that Larwood had departed.

"Why did you have to give him your letter today? I told you to wait until tomorrow," hissed Mrs. Bennet.

"Because I wanted to say thank you promptly and it was not fair to make the fellow wait."

"You are just like your father, you will always find a way to spoil things."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. She had been mortified to find her mother in the bower with a servant but she knew that to try and remonstrate with her would prove to be a pure waste of time.

"Ungrateful girl," muttered Mrs. Bennet, "and after all I have done for you, fixing things with you and Mr. Collins."

"I do not want things to be fixed with Mr. Collins!" cried Elizabeth.

"Selfish girl! Life is not all about what you want."

As Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth glared at each other Mary and Kitty ran over to the bower.

"What is it?" cried Mrs. Bennet, "whatever is the matter? Has Hill burnt the mutton? Has she drunk all the cooking brandy again, like she did at Christmas?"

"No," cried Kitty.

"The Lucas's just received another express," said Mary. "It's Charlotte...she's dead."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Elizabeth let out a sob of anguish before running to her room. She flung herself on her bed and cried bitter tears, unable to bear the pain of losing her kind and sensible friend. She could not accept that Charlotte had died so young and that her last days on earth had been ones filled with the pain of childbed sickness and the grief of losing her newborn.

Elizabeth remained in her room for the rest of the day, only joining her family when called down to attend dinner. Hill was so worried by her mistress's distress that she persuaded Elizabeth to drink laudanum and applied a cold compress to her mistress's puffy eyes before allowing her to join her family for dinner.

Due to the laudanum and her deep grief and shock Elizabeth was not really aware of the talk at the table. Her family did not seem to notice the depth of her sorrow or if they did, they chose to ignore it.

Considering the recent tragic news Mrs. Bennet's mood seemed surprisingly buoyant, "Kitty and Mary, tomorrow morning you must go to the rose garden and pick all the yellow roses and some angels' hair and then get Hill to help you to make them up into posies and buttonholes."

"Mrs. Bennet, that is quite enough!" Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows in the direction of Elizabeth who was absentmindedly playing with her soup, "I'll thank you to be careful what you say."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips in annoyance, "Oh, how very tiresome you are, Mr. Bennet! This is one of the happiest nights of my life and there are so many things to plan."

"There is nothing to plan!" insisted Mr. Bennet, "Please desist from this topic of conversation immediately!"

"But tomorrow is going to be such a big day and there's not even time to get new dresses made for my girls or even time to let dear Jane know what is happening. I don't see why everything has to be so rushed." She glanced at a forlorn Mr. Collins and then at her despondent daughter and whispered to Lydia, "Once Elizabeth has recovered her spirit she will fight getting married to Mr. Collins tooth and nail and then he will have second thoughts about marrying such an unwilling wife so perhaps it is better to strike while the iron is hot. But still, it is such a pity not to have new dresses."

"If Mr. Collins will not have Lizzy then Mary will have him!" said Kitty.

"But he will not have her!" said Lydia, "What would he want with a plain, bookish thing like Mary? No, don't worry Mary, I will not leave you to wither away at Longbourn, you may come and live with me after I am married." Mary smiled at this unexpected kindness until Lydia added, "You can be my lady's maid."

Lydia and Kitty giggled.

"If Elizabeth does become difficult Mr. Collins will marry you I'm sure," said Mrs. Bennet to her favourite child.

"Lord, but I will not have Mr. Collins!" cried Lydia, "Nothing but a red coat will do for me, ma'ma." Mrs. Bennet smiled approvingly.

Mr. Bennet banged his fist on the linen tablecloth making the cutlery, china and crystal jump and nearly causing Hill to drop the leg of mutton, "No more! No more I say! I will not have it! You are talking of people as if they are not in the room. And I will have no talk of marriage on the day of poor Charlotte's death." Their father's rare show of temper was enough to ensure that the rest of the meal was eaten in silence.

Caroline looked up and glared as Larwood entered Darcy's room. Darcy's pale face light up as he once more set eyes upon his favourite man servant.

"Larwood, come over," Darcy beckoned him to his bed where Caroline was soup feeding him soup.

"No more, it tastes bitter," Darcy turned his head away from the proffered spoon.

"Oh, but it's so good for you," Caroline tried to keep the note of frustration out of her voice.

"No more!" insisted Darcy, "Please leave us, I need to speak to Larwood."

Caroline banged the soup dish on the tray and roughly ripped the napkin from around Darcy's neck before flouncing towards the door.

"And from now on, Larwood is to serve me all my meals," said Darcy.

Caroline did not stop walking and did not look back. Her only reply was to slam the door on her way out. Larwood came towards the bed.

"Larwood, my good man! How was the trip? Did you see Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Did you find her in good spirits?"

"Sir, she seemed well enough but I fancy she is a little sad. But she was very happy to get her necklace back. She gave me this," Larwood handed the letter to his master which Darcy anxiously opened and read;

"Dear Mr. Darcy,

I know not how to thank you for reuniting me with my necklace. I never again expected to see it but as long as you lived it was but a small sacrifice to make. After all, what is a diamond necklace compared to the life of a man? A man, I must confess, who I admire above all others.

There, I have said it! I am so sorry that I ever doubted you. You are so generous to have forgiven me my frightful accusations. Now that we have both opened our hearts, even though we are separated, we shall be strong in the knowledge of our shared and mutual esteem. From now on, nothing shall tear us asunder.

Caroline remains a problem. But it is no true marriage and it must be that she is an adulterer. If you can but gain proof of this then an annulment or divorce will be yours for the taking. Please be on your guard against this woman. Her behaviour sounds suspicious.

Fondest regards

Elizabeth"

Darcy thoughtfully closed the letter.

Wickham took swig of whiskey as he tried to size up his elderly drinking pall, Colonel Beresford-Smythe, at the East India Club. The question upper most in Wickham's mind was how soon could he touch the old fellow for money. His instinct told him not just yet. The wooing must continue a little longer, which was a pity because unless financial help came soon Wickham would be kicked out of his respectable lodgings and would once again find himself in a doss house. He took another swig of whiskey and pasted on a dashing smile, "So I said to the Maharaja 'I don't care if this duck originated from Bombay, Jaipur or bally Goa! The only place it should be sent to is bally Coventry! And if this is duck then I'm a horse!' Duck my arse! It tasted of fish I tell you. Prehistoric fish at that. Never eaten anything so rancid in all my life."

The Colonel frowned, "But Bombay duck is fish."

"Fish?" Wickham was puzzled.

"Yes, anybody who's been to India knows that."

"Yes...of course..."

"It's lizard fish, dried and salted."

Wickham dry heaved into his glass of whiskey but quickly recovered himself, "Yes, yes, quite, I know that now but my point being, you shouldn't call a fish a duck. I mean to say, I bit into it expecting a succulent dark juicy piece of duck and instead got something dry and salty and stiff as an old board and smelling like a certain Lady Catherine's undergarments."

"I don't know," frowned the Colonel, "me and the boys used to be grateful for a piece of Bombay duck when we were fighting campaigns. It was a handy snack you could bite on in between slaughtering the enemy, what."

Wickham half smiled in agreement and sensing that he was losing ground with the Colonel was grateful to be interrupted by a servant bearing Mrs. Caroline Darcy's card. He excused himself with alacrity and made his way to her waiting hackney carriage.

"Darling!" cooed Wickham.

"Don't darling me, I can't meet you at the club again," hissed Caroline, "It's too risky, especially now that Darcy's manservant is back. I don't trust him an inch."

"Well, get rid of the risk, my turtledove," Wickham traced her cheek with his finger, "The sooner you kill Darcy, the safer we will be."

"And end up with nothing?" glared Caroline, "Only direct bloodline may inherit Pemberley. Yes, dear Darcy changed the terms of his will subsequent to the poisoning. Now I have to make sure I am with child before anything can happen to my dear husband."

Wickham traced her breasts just above the neckline of her gown, "Well, we'll have to see what we can do about that, won't we..."

Caroline smiled a slow smile. Moments later the couple alighted from the carriage and entered a rundown hotel in an unfashionable part of town. Both were quite unaware that they were being watched.


	14. Chapter 14

Wickham looked down at Caroline and smiled mischievously. Her auburn curls were spread across the pillow in wild disarray. It was a look that he found most appealing despite the onset of night draining her hair of its deep colour. He found Caroline to be a very pleasing lover. After only their second time together she had lost all her inhibitions and now, after a few lessons in love, she serviced him with a willingness and skill which was hard to come by in English women. He chuckled to himself, Darcy, the prig, didn't know what he was missing.

Caroline reached up and pulled Wickham down to her. They kissed, a long, slow, lingering kiss that was in danger of once again igniting both their passions. Eventually Wickham pulled away, "Your link boy is waiting."

"So let him wait," Caroline reached up for another kiss but Wickham pulled away and sat on the side of the bed, suddenly in ill humour.

"Wickham, my love?" Caroline sat up and hugged him from behind, her auburn curls tumbled about his naked shoulders. "A penny for them?"

"I love you, Caroline."

Caroline felt herself stiffen.

"Well, say something!"

Caroline unpeeled herself from his back, "I...I, I don't know what to say."

"Well, do you feel the same way or no?" He turned to face her, his blue eyes piercing, his jaw clenched.

Caroline loved Darcy, or so she had always thought. But now that she was in a physical relationship with a man who wanted her...well, things were different. "Yes. Yes, I do love you," she admitted quietly.

Wickham let out his breath and relaxed. "So when are you going to do it?"

"Do what?"

"Kill Darcy."

"Kill him?"

"Yes, kill him!" Wickham's temper was starting to rise.

"But, I thought we could go on like this. At least for a while longer. We're having fun aren't we? We meet frequently enough."

Wickham let out a bitter laugh, "Yes, in a tawdry rented room, twice a week." He turned upon her and gripped her by the shoulders, "Do you think for one minute this is how I want it to be with you, my future wife!"

Caroline gasped, "Future wife?"

"Yes. Since Darcy senior died everything in my life has been sordid and rotten and no good. You are the one ray of light that has walked into it and I do not intend to lose you."

Caroline was flattered but not at all sure that she wanted to marry again, to again be the property of another but she wisely decided to keep this thought to herself.

"So, I ask again," said Wickham with mounting impatience, "when are you going to murder your dear husband?"

"I have been trying!" cried Caroline. She grabbed at her chemise, leapt off the bed and paced back and forth in front of the dying embers of the fire. "I've been trying to do it gradually but the fellow drinks and eats so very little that I have made very little progress. I have only succeeded in keeping him weak and bedbound. And now that his damnable manservant is back, Larwood, Darcy will not take a morsel from me and cook, the butler and the housekeeper all contrive to keep me from the kitchen."

"Well, try harder, damn it!" Wickham's fist slammed down on the bedside cabinet that contained the chamber pot. Caroline flew to Wickham, kneeling before him in supplication.

"I will! I am! But please! I cannot kill Darcy until I am sure I am with child otherwise I inherit nothing."

"When is your term due?" asked Wickham sulkily.

"Soon, soon, in the next few days."

"Well, hurry up and fall. This waiting, meeting like this, is driving me to distraction."

"I will, I will! I am healthy. It will happen soon, my love."

"It better!" Wickham dressed hurriedly and left leaving Caroline feeling hollow and alone.

***

Moments later Caroline hurried along the dark street, her head down, auburn curls escaping from her hooded, flowing cape of bottle green velvet. A young boy, no older than the age of seven, lit the way with a burning torch. After a moment the link boy stopped. Caroline looked up irritably, "Hurry boy, find me a carriage! What is this? You've taken me into an alleyway, why I'll have your guts for garters for this!"

Just as she went to box the boy's ears a man's strong hand stayed her.

"Run along," said Larwood as he threw a penny to the link boy. The boy scampered away leaving only the moon for light.

Caroline's green eyes flashed with fury, "What outrage is this? A servant touching his mistress?"

Larwood's lip curled in distaste, "I'd sooner touch a trull." He calmly released his grip upon her, "And you are not my mistress," he spat coldly, "and when I tell my master with whom you spend your time, and where, you will no longer be his wife!"

Caroline gulped and her chest pounded with fear, "I know not of what you speak!"

Larwood's anger returned as he gripped her by the shoulders, "Oh yes you do! You know very well. I must say that you and Wickham are much suited. You are both creatures of the gutter. And once my master knows what has been going on he will throw you out without a penny. But I dare say you will feel at home...in the gutter."

Caroline's mind raced as she fought not to panic.

Larwood's handsome face lit up as he laughed, "Oh, what a fine picture you make - a rat caught in a trap!"

The light was too poor for him to see Caroline's half smile start to form, "Is that what you think?"

Larwood was put on warning by the new note of confidence in her voice but had no time to react as Caroline reached up and grabbed at her emerald necklace before ripping it away from her throat.

"What the...?" said Larwood.

"Thief! Thief!" screamed Caroline as she threw her necklace at his face. Larwood caught it as reflex and tried to hand it back. "Thief! Somebody please! I will offer a rich reward! Just rid me of this thief!"

Just then a passerby and a Bow Street Runner rushed into the alleyway and grabbed Larwood, pulling him to the ground. Larwood threw the necklace away from him.

"No, no! Let me go! You are mistaken! I am not a thief! Release me!" Larwood struggled but the passerby was a thickset labourer.

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Sheba!" said the labourer before quietening Larwood with a blow to the face.

"Ah, my necklace!" cried Caroline as she retrieved the emeralds from the filth of the cobbles where it had landed. But no sooner had she placed it safely in her reticule than her eyes opened wide as she touched her hand and wrist, "Oh but gentlemen! My bracelet and ring are both missing!"

"Search his pockets!" commanded the Bow Street runner.

After a moment the labourer pulled out a matching emerald bracelet and ring from Larwood's jacket pocket.

"You're be transported to the colonies for this!" said the Runner to Larwood who was just coming round from the labourer's punch.

"Thank you so much gentlemen," said Caroline graciously, "Oh look! There is a carriage. I must dash. As she tripped past she gave a discreet wave and whispered to Larwood, "Oh, I hear that the weather in Australia is a trifle inclement at this time of year. That's if you survive the journey."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Hill knocked before cautiously entering Elizabeth's room. Her mistress lay in her bed, as she had done all day, lost in the sorrow of her thoughts.

"Please miss, Mrs. Bennet says that you are to attend dinner."

Elizabeth had been gazing towards the sash window but slowly turned to face Hill as her words gradually penetrated through to her inner misery, "Tell her that I am not hungry," Elizabeth sounded very tired. There was an opened bottle of laudanum on top of her bedside cabinet.

"Begging your pardon miss, but Mr. Bennet also demands that you attend dinner."

Elizabeth gave a heavy sigh and, with supreme effort, sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Hill immediately busied herself with putting on her mistress's silk stockings. It wasn't until she her hair was being dressed that Elizabeth realised she was wearing her finest cream silk gown. She shrugged, feeling only the heavy sadness of grief combined with a laudanum induced lethargy.

"Oh mistress, you look beautiful!" said Hill with pride. She lifted the looking glass and Elizabeth glanced at herself. Her dark chestnut ringlets framed her face and above the ringlets...a garland of yellow roses."

"Why have you dressed my hair with flowers?" puzzled Elizabeth.

"You must go down as soon as you're ready," said Hill as she pulled out Elizabeth's chair at the dressing table.

Elizabeth glided trance like into the dining room, "What is this?" she blinked as she tried to take in the changes to the room. The dining table had been pushed to the side and was laid with a buffet in the French style. Her mother's best silver candlesticks shined in the lambent light and flower arrangements featuring yellow roses graced the table at strategic intervals. The dining chairs were placed in two rows facing a sideboard that had been covered in white cloth to create a makeshift altar.

"I don't understand?" Elizabeth caught her breath as reality started to fight its way to the core of her befuddled mind.

"Why, it's your wedding breakfast silly!" cried Lydia.

"Hurry up and get married because I'm hungry!" declared Kitty.

"No, no, no..." Elizabeth walked slowly backwards towards the door but when she turned around to leave her father blocked her way.

"Do this one thing, Lizzie."

"No! No!" she pushed past him and grabbed the door handle but it was locked and her father held the key.

"I really must insist that you do," said Mr. Bennet.

"Father, please let me pass. I will never marry Mr. Collins."

"Why, what is your objection? That you do not love him? What does that signify? I was in love with your mother, once...a long, long time ago. What good did it ever do me? I would have been better off marrying an heiress and making sure that my children were well provided for."

"You have lost your reason, let me go!"

"No, Eliza you are quite wrong. I have only just gained my reason. Until now I had my head buried in my books and did not care a fig for the future but now I have become sensible, responsible and to that end you will marry Mr. Collins. It is a good match, especially considering how tarnished our family name is since Lydia's indiscretion. And most importantly of all, by marrying Mr. Collins you ensure the safety and welfare of your entire family. Lady Catherine de Bourgh paid for and rushed through a special licence. She doesn't want Mr. Collins taking time off from his parish in order to start courting all over again. She wants him married and back at Hunsford as soon as possible. Elizabeth, you must marry him."

"But father, I hate him."

"To enter the state of matrimony already despising one's partner saves much valuable time and heartache later."

"Father, you have lost your reason! I tell you, I will never marry him!"

"If you do not then you are no longer my daughter. You will be cast forth from this house without a penny or a possession and do not think that you will be able to turn to the Gardiners or your sister. They will all abide by my will. You belong to me and you will obey me, or else."

"Hurry, else the goose will be cold," cried Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth looked at her father, a man she no longer recognised or respected. She knew she had no option other than to go through with the marriage. Slowly she turned to face the room, the melancholy flickering light from the candles and the pungent scent from the roses put her in mind of funeral, her own funeral. Fighting down the urge to be sick she took her father's offered arm. At this signal her family eagerly sat down and Elizabeth, with an unbearable feeling of dread, walked slowly up the aisle but instead of a coffin, there waiting at the end of the aisle was the odious Mr. Collins.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Caroline walked into Darcy's room and found him much the same as she had left him, in bed and propped up against his pillows. He regarded his wife coldly.

"Your milliner keeps remarkably late hours."

Caroline smiled a hard smile that didn't reach her eyes, "Yes, when I need a hat in a hurry she really is most obliging." She approached the bed and held a draft up to his lips, "Here my love, this will help you sleep."

"Yes, I bet it will - for an eternity!" Darcy swiped the draft away with his hand. The hot liquid spilt over Caroline and the carpet.

"Oh dear, that was clumsy," hissed Caroline through gritted teeth. "Never mind, no harm done, I will fetch you another..."

In an unexpected display of vitality Darcy caught hold of her wrist, "You'll do no such thing! I find that my strength returns with every day, now that I no longer sup from your hand."

Caroline's emerald eyes flashed as she wrenched her wrist away from his grasp. She rubbed her wrist and smiled, "Why that is wonderful news, my love." She held his gaze for a moment before turning to leave.

"Caroline."

She stopped without turning to face him.

"Where is Larwood? What has become of him?"

Caroline fleered over her shoulder, "I'm dashed if I know. The rapscallion probably robbed some poor defenceless woman and is languishing in some prison or other as we speak." She closed the door behind her and Darcy beat his fist against the bedpost in impotent rage.

The vicar repeated his question, "And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

Elizabeth turned to her father, her eyes silently imploring him for a last minute reprieve but to no avail, her father glared sternly back at her. Her heart pounded, she knew she must do her duty and provide a home and security for her mother and sisters through marriage to a man she loathed. The vicar cleared his throat in an effort to obtain an answer. She forced herself to look once more at Mr. Collins. His deep set pale blue piggy eyes sparkled and his jowls quivered with anticipation, like a hound being made to wait for a juicy bone. She went to speak but her mouth was suddenly dry, so dry that she could not swallow.

"I do," she finally whispered and as she did so a heavy sadness settled upon her soul as she bade farewell to any thoughts of ever knowing happiness again.

The vicar, who had been holding his breath, let out a sigh of relief, "I pronounce you husband and wife." He turned towards Mr. Collins, "You may now kiss the bride!"

A lascivious smile spread across Mr. Collins' clumsy features. Elizabeth stared in mute horror as he puckered up his fat, fish lips and leaned towards her. She stood rooted to the spot prey, hypnotised by revulsion, looking into the face of her devourer.

Suddenly, like a fish going for a baited hook, Mr. Collins' fleshy lips were upon hers and his fat, insistent tongue searched out hers. Elizabeth kept her mouth tightly shut and drove the heel of her shoe down hard onto his toes.

"Ouch!"

Elizabeth gasped for air and started to walk down the aisle. Her one thought to put distance between Mr. Collins and herself but he quickly caught up with her and attempted to link arms but she unceremoniously shook him off.

"Two daughters married!" Mrs Bennet clasped her hands together in delight, "And two such very good matches! Now everyone please dine, there is pigeons in white sauce and goose and game and I know not what! I must declare that marriages always seem to make me hungry."

Elizabeth walked towards the door, her one thought to be as far away from Collins as possible but as she put her hand on the door handle Mr. Bennet put his hand over hers.

"Congratulations Mrs. Collins."

Elizabeth looked at her father, her face a picture of misery.

Mr. Bennet's face crumpled, "Forgive me, Lizzie."

She looked away, "I need some cool air."

Mr. Bennet recovered himself, "A bride must attend her wedding breakfast." It was a command. "At least until the vicar has taken his leave. Formalities must be observed. You must stick at this marriage. There will be no safe haven for you if you do not. Destitution or respectability are your only choices.

"I understand, father."

"We all must do our duty Lizzie. It is because I failed to do mine that you must now do yours."

"Yes, father."

"I hope I need not add that you must consummate the marriage tonight. It is a legal requirement. Your mother and sister's futures are not safe until you do."

Elizabeth fought down the bile rising in her throat, "I promise to do my duty, father."

Mr. Bennet regarded her sadly before making her a slight bow and walking over to Mr. Collins and loudly congratulating his new son-in-law.

Elizabeth leant against the wall and wondered when the nightmare would end.

Pestilence (on Woolwich prison hulk)


	17. Chapter 17

WARNING: until now the angst factor has been around the 4/10 mark but from now on it is going to steadily climb up to 100/10. If you are going to get upset by reading about all manner of awful, hideous, evil, tragic and wicked things happening to ODB and ODG then I would strongly suggest that you read no further. But I thank you so much for having supported my story so far.

For those of you who can read about all those things and walk away having enjoyed the angst-fest and leave wanting more, then here we go...

Chapter 17

Lydia and Kitty giggled together as they approached Elizabeth.

"Lord Mrs. Collins, whatever possessed you to marry a country parson?" said Lydia.

"And an ugly one at that," tittered Kitty.

"I saw him cross the courtyard as he went to the privy last night and he was wearing the most old fashioned nightcap imaginable. It flapped in the wind and had a tassel on the end and he looked older than father!" laughed Lydia.

"I could not share my bed with a man who wore a nightcap," said Kitty.

"Nor I!" cried Lydia, "I would not even condescend to dance with him. I should imagine that lying with Mr. Collins will be a most horrible experience, but you must tell us all in the morning and we will have a jolly good laugh about it all over breakfast. But how I pity you, dear sister, having to lie with that clumsy oaf. I still shiver with longing when I think of my short time with my darling Mr. Wickham."

"It is because of your short time with Mr. Wickham that I have been forced to accept Mr. Collins," hissed Elizabeth before flouncing away in a fury.

"Oh, but Hill has forgotten the apple sauce," cried Mrs. Bennet, "we can not have goose without apple sauce. Ring the bell, Kitty."

"No, don't!" said Elizabeth, "I'll go. I need to cool my head in the passageway."

"But you're the bride! You should be by your husband's side, enjoying yourself," said Mrs. Bennet.

"I also need to use the privy," whispered Elizabeth.

"Well, then go behind the scene," said Mrs. Bennet loudly, causing Lydia to giggle.

"It wouldn't be appropriate," said Elizabeth between gritted teeth, "I feel quite bilious."

Elizabeth left the room and raced upstairs to Mr. Bennet's dressing room. Behind his winter coat was the locked chest which held the family valuables, including Elizabeth's diamond necklace. She flailed around looking for some way to prize open the padlock. Her eyes alighted upon her father's old sword. She unsheathed it and placed the blade in the narrow gap between the lock and the chest. She twisted the sword but could not get enough purchase in order to prize off the padlock. In desperation and frustration she began to slash wildly at the chest with the sword but to no avail. Exhausted she slumped down onto the chest and cried. If she ran away tonight would Jane or the Gardiners take pity on her and take her in? Would Darcy allow her to stay with him? But she would be placing them all in an impossible situation; asking Jane and the Gardiner's to effectively break off relations with the rest of her family and Darcy was married, staying with him would cause a scandal. He may not mind for himself but it was bound to affect his sister's chances and choice of marriage. To add to all this was the fact that she did not have the financial means to get to London. She had to face the fact that she was trapped.

She forced herself to calm down and think clearly. She wiped her eyes, breathed deeply and replaced her Father's sword. Maybe there was another way...

Elizabeth composed herself before entering the kitchen. Hill and her husband, the butler, were sitting down, eating their evening meal.

"Hill, I apologise for disturbing you but we need some apple sauce."

"Oh lord, of course you do, I'll just fetch it from the pantry."

"No Hill, please stay seated. I'll fetch it myself." Elizabeth walked through the kitchen, past the scullery and into the pantry. Dead and hanging by its rear paws was what she had been praying to find – a freshly caught rabbit.

Elizabeth entered the dining room holding a dish of apple sauce.

"Good grief, what kept you? Your father is looking for you and the goose is quite cold!" scolded Mrs. Bennet.

"I had difficulty finding the sauce and didn't want to disturb Hill," said Elizabeth.

"Well, no matter, you're here now. Come on, eat something girl! You'll need to keep your strength up for tonight," said Mrs. Bennet with a smile. Lydia and Kitty burst into peals of laughter.

Elizabeth shuddered, "I have no appetite."

The wedding breakfast drew to an end and the vicar took his leave. Feeling like a prisoner condemned Elizabeth walked up to her room with the heaviest heart. Once in her room she unpinned the garland from her hair and threw it on the bedside cabinet. It looked like a small, yellow funeral wreath. Hill helped her out of her gown and as she was brushing Elizabeth's hair Mrs. Bennet barged in.

"For heaven's sake, put a smile on your face Lizzy," said Mrs. Bennet, "give the poor man some encouragement. The sooner it's done, the sooner it's over. That's what I always say." Lydia and Kitty could be heard giggling from behind the door.

"Get out mother!" hissed Elizabeth, her chest pounding with anger and fear.

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips in disapproval, "Very well, I shall go if you think you know better than your dear mama on such matters."

Hill pulled back the sheets and Elizabeth climbed into bed with a chill of foreboding.

"Goodnight mistress," Hill choked back her tears.

"Don't worry Hill, all will be well," said Elizabeth with a calm she did not feel.

Hill left and Elizabeth could hear nothing but the loud thumping of her own heart. She swallowed hard and her stomach lurched as the door handle turned and Mr. Collins walked in. He was wearing the ridiculous night cap and a voluminous night shirt out from which his belly protruded. Accompanying him into the room was the overwhelming odour of long unwashed feet. Elizabeth, trying not to gag, brought the sheet up to her nose. Mr. Collins, misconstruing this gesture, smiled approvingly.

"My dearest Elizabeth, your modesty is quite charming."

Elizabeth spoke through the sheet, "It is not modesty I assure you Mr. Collins, it is the smell of your feet."

Mr. Collins chuckled, "Oh yes, Charlotte didn't like the smell either but us Collins's don't wash our feet. We don't believe in it."

"Why in heaven's name not?"

"My grandfather caught a chill after washing his feet and died, poor soul. Ever since then my father deemed it not worth taking the risk."

Elizabeth's heart leap with fright as he pulled back the sheets and proceeded to climb into bed next to her. The smell of feet became slightly less pungent but was soon replaced by the smell of greasy, dirty hair and foul breath. Elizabeth's eyes watered with the assorted fumes as he turned to face her.

"Dearest cousin, we are married now. Do not be shy, lower the sheet from your face and let me regard your lovely visage."

"I cannot, the smell is too much."

"How you do jest!" smiled Mr. Collins. He regarded her for a moment before becoming serious, "I will now snuff out the candle."

"Please do not, sir!" cried Elizabeth, "I beg of you!"

Mr. Collins raised his eyebrows and a lascivious smile curled around his lips, "As you wish. Truth be told, I would much rather keep the candle burning myself, all the better to see your sweet face and divine body," he ran a fat pink tongue over his wet lips and eyed her hungrily. "I shall now proceed to have congress with you. Having been married before I need not explain that I am a man of the world and am already wise in the ways of the bedchamber. With Charlotte it was all a bit boring," he frowned, "she just used to lay there but I am sure with you it will be a great pleasure for me. Oh, do not look so alarmed dearest cousin for it shall all be over very quickly. It only used to take me a minute or so with Charlotte but I am sure that with you, because I am all the more aroused, it will be over in matter of seconds. As my father used to say, 'in, out – repeat if necessary'" and so saying he lunged towards her. Elizabeth fought him off with all her might but it was an unequal match and very soon she lay helpless under his heavy, lumbering bulk.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Panic seized hold of Elizabeth as she felt the full weight of Mr. Collins on top of her. He was too big and heavy to fight off but still, panting with exertion, her delicate hands tried to push away his fleshy shoulders.

"Sir, I beg you, desist!"

"Your maidenly modesty does you all credit dear cousin but now is the time to lay still and let me do my duty," said Mr. Collins huffily, "And stop lashing out so! I mean to say, I wanted you to have more spirit than Charlotte but this is too much! This may be a duty for you but it is meant to be a pleasurable experience for me. How do you ever expect me to be able to place my manhood within your maidenhood if you will not lie still? Can you not facilitate matters by lifting your hips a little? Otherwise I can't really reach, as Charlotte used to say – my tummy is large and my manhood is short. Maybe if you were to lie on top of my belly and start a rocking motion then eventually my manhood will make contact with your...Charlotte used to call that position 'the starfish'."

"Got off me you great, sweating oaf!"

Mr. Collins looked startled for a moment before smiling, "I will silence your objections with a kiss. Charlotte used to go quite limp when I kissed her."

"Yes, that would be the fumes, you stinking monster!" were Elizabeth's last words before he clamped his fat, wet fishy lips upon hers and his sour, furred tongue sought out her own. Elizabeth concentrated on not vomiting or fainting as her hands flailed around in desperation. On the bedside cabinet she found her rose garland, picked it up and flung it at Mr. Collins. He stopped kissing her and looked down at her disapprovingly.

"Cousin, now you go too far. I am not in the habit of being hit over the head with a flower garland. Do not alarm yourself, cousin, for it did not hurt, it is only my pride that is wounded. But now I must teach you your place and take you by force, as that seems to be the way you want...ahhhhhhhhh!" Mr. Collins let out a blood curdling scream as Elizabeth plunged a pin from her garland into his flaccid bottom. He leapt off the bed, rubbing his backside in shock and then he saw the pin in her hand and his face flushed with fury.

"Your father shall hear of this!" he stomped out only to run into Mr. Bennet in the corridor who was holding a candle in one hand and his sword in the other.

"Do we have intruders? I heard a scream. Is my dearest Lizzie safe?" cried Mr. Bennet.

"Your daughter is quite well. I, however, have been attacked."

"Attacked? By whom?"

"Your daughter, sir."

Both men entered Elizabeth's room and for a moment stood rooted to the spot in shock.

"My dear child, what is this?" asked Mr. Bennet his eyes wide with horror as he took in his daughter's ripped nightdress and the blood splattered sheets. Elizabeth ran to her father, clasped her arms about him and cried.

"He forced himself upon me! I am hurt! I am bleeding!"

Rage suffused Mr. Bennet as he peeled away his daughter and raised his sword to a speechless Mr. Collins throat, "How dare you, sir! How dare you take my daughter by force! This was a marriage of convenience, a property deal, and well you know it!"

"I know not what all this blood is nor how her night attire came to be ripped," squeaked a petrified Mr. Collins, "all I know is that she pricked me with a pin, sir. And very painful it was too."

"Pricked you with a pin?" yelled Mr. Bennet, "that will be as nothing after I have run you through with my sword!"

Mr. Collins gulped nervously, "Now, now sir, please do not distress yourself."

"Oh, but I do distress myself! Because of my carelessness, my lack of responsibility towards my family, I forced my dearest daughter to take your fat, oafish hand in marriage. That is bad enough...but this! You think I will stand for this? You think that just because Elizabeth is your wife, that she is without protection? Without family? Think again, sir. The marriage has been consummated, that is clearly evident," Mr. Bennet lifted a blood soaked sheet with his sword. "So there will be no talk of an annulment, ever! And, although Elizabeth has paid the highest price, Longbourn is now back in our keeping and she has provided a home and safety for her mother and sisters for after I am gone. But sir, while I live, if you so much as lay an unwanted finger upon my daughter then I swear that I will kill you and Longbourn be damned!"

"But, but..." began Mr. Collins.

"You have nothing to say that I can want to hear," said Mr. Bennet, "And now, sir, you will remove yourself from this room, from this house and sleep the rest of the night in the barn."

Elizabeth stifled a smile as she looked into her terrified husband's face and she thanked the heavens above that there was not yet a way of telling the difference between human and rabbit blood.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The next morning Elizabeth was dimly aware of the daily making up the fire in her room but became fully awake the minute her mother unceremoniously burst through her door.

"Well, how did it go?" cried Mrs. Bennet before spotting the daily, "Shoo, shoo! See to it later. I must talk to my daughter, Mrs. Collins."

The daily scurried from the room as Elizabeth closed her eyes and grimaced at the sound of her new title.

Mrs. Bennet's eyes lit up when she saw the blood splattered sheets, "My, my! You bled like a stuck pig!"

"Mother, please!"

"Oh, no but it's good. It proves fertility and virtue and...in my mother's day they would hang the bloodied sheet from the window. Actually, that's a good idea! if I hang it from this window like so, then Mrs. Lucas and her clan are sure to see it."

Elizabeth sat up in bed, "Mother don't!"

"Elizabeth, you may be a married woman but that does not give you the authority to tell your mother what to do. This is a wedding night sheet to be proud of, the more who see it the better." Mrs. Bennet flung open the sash cord window, ripped the sheet from the bed and hung it out of the window.

"Mother, take that sheet down at once! It's insupportable! For heaven's sake have a care for the poor Lucas's. Their dearest Charlotte is not yet cold in her grave."

Mrs. Bennet spun round and scowled at her daughter, "And did they have a care for me when they paraded over here, gloating about Charlotte's engagement? Knowing full well that to us it meant losing Longbourn! It meant me and my girls would be homeless before Mr. Bennet was cold in his grave!" she staggered towards her daughter clutching at her heart, "Oh, even now, I get such tremblings and flutterings whenever I think of it!" she sat down heavily on the bed. "And there was I, expected to slap on a happy smile and wish them well when all the while Mrs. Lucas was sizing up my windows and wondering if the curtains will last another twenty years."

"Mother, that's not true!"

"Oh, yes it is! I caught her in the act. She even had the gall to ask me the measurements for the bay window in the drawing room! Can you imagine? I just replied that I had no idea and that in any case every window in the house was rotten and riddled with worm and needed replacing. That wiped the smile off her face, I can tell you! So now let her look at my windows as much as she pleases!" Mrs. Bennet gave a triumphant laugh before once more clutching at her chest and side, "Oh, but I have such beatings of the heart, pains in my head and the spasm in my side has returned."

"Try to calm yourself, mother."

Mrs. Bennet stopped breathing mid deep breath when she caught sight of her daughter's torn night dress, "Well, who'd have thought it but it looks for all the world as though Mr. Collins is a man of great passions!"

Elizabeth clasped at the gaping night dress.

Mrs. Bennet's eyes twinkled, "Do you know, I always dreaming of having my night dress torn off by a handsome red coat! But then I married your father," she added sourly.

Deep inside a prison hulk moored close up to the Royal Arsenal at Woolwich Larwood lay listlessly, swaying slightly, in his hammock. His world was now dark, fetid and filthy. The only sounds were the lapping Thames, ominous creaks from the hull and the half witted cries of the prisoners. The food was scarce and inedible. The prison guards were harsh and cruel and, apart from cut throats and pickpockets, his only company were the rats which lurked and scuttled in the dank corners of his ward. Tomorrow the vessel sailed for Australia and Larwood no longer cared whether he lived or died.

Like a dog that has been left too long in a kennel and no longer expects to be claimed, Larwood did not bother to look up when the heavy keys clanked against the metal barred door of his ward.

"Larwood," called out the jailer.

Larwood did not respond. Lost in hopelessness he did not even hear his name being called.

"Larwood!" shouted the jailer, "get over here! You've got a visitor."

Larwood flinched when a prisoner's bony blackened finger prodded his shoulder, "'Ere mate, ain't that your name?"

Larwood glanced over at the door and did a double take. In shock he slid down from his hammock and slowly walked towards the door and his visitor.

"Larwood!" Darcy threw his arms around his loyal servant, "But is it really you? You are so very much changed."

"Yes master, it is me but I wish you had not seen me like this."

"Nonsense, come let us talk," Darcy turned to the jailor and gave him a coin, "take us to the upper deck before we catch a pestilence from breathing the foul air down here."

The jailor hesitated for a fraction of a second before inviting the mismatched duo to follow him. He could not work out who looked the most ill; the prisoner was thin, miserable and filthy and the gentleman, although he stood erect and dressed in the finest quality clothes, was thin and white and sweating and only managing to climb the stairs and rope ladders within the ship with the greatest of difficulty.

Once in the open Larwood gulped down grateful lungfuls of fresh air. The deck was a hive of activity as voluminous sails were made ready, thick hemp ropes were coiled into neat piles and the wooden deck was given one last coating of tar.

As soon as the jailor retreated to a respectful distance Darcy grabbed his servant by the shoulders, "Listen Larwood, we don't have much time. I have bribed the captain and his crew. From now on you are to share the captain's quarters. You will surely die of a contagion if you remain any longer in that verminous pit below. I am also having food delivered as we speak. Larwood, it is most important that you eat fresh fruit and vegetables during the voyage. I read a paper by Captain Cook, he believes that only fresh food can keep scurvy at bay. Your captain has assured me that he will make stops on route so that he can replenish his vessel with fresh produce. Once you have landed in Australia, if I hear from both you and the governor that you have arrived alive and with your teeth intact then I will pay the captain a small fortune. I have written to the governor explaining that the same precautions are to be taken when it is time for your return journey."

Larwood wept with relief, "I don't know how to thank you, master!"

"And here, take this," Darcy shoved a slim, firm leather tube into Larwood's hand. Larwood looked at the tube in askance. "Contained within is twenty guineas, so that you can buy yourself some comfort once you arrive in the colony."

"Thank you so much, sir but I fear it will be stolen as soon as I sleep."

"Not if you...you know...," Darcy raised his eyebrows and tipped his head.

"Stick it up my arse, sir?"

"Well yes, something like that. I believe that would be as safer place as any."

"Oh, it would be safe as houses up there, sir! Even if I were in the deepest sleep I'd soon awake if somebody were to start tampering with me jaxy."

"Yes, quite," said Darcy stiffly.

"You've saved me life, sir and no mistake!" cried Larwood, "I don't know how to ever thank you."

"Don't mention it," said Darcy, "It's my fault that you're in this ghastly predicament in the first place. I'm sure my wife is behind this."

Larwood looked down and nodded unhappily, "I found her with Wickham, sir and she had me framed for robbery."

"Wickham! I should have guessed!"

The jailor came over and insisted that their time together was now at an end. Master and servant said a sad farewell and parted. Larwood started to walk towards the direction of the privy and then turned around, "Sir, may I ask you one favour, that you remember me to your dear sister, Georgina."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Mrs. Phillips arrived at Longbourn shortly after breakfast in a state of great agitation and immediately repaired to Mrs. Bennet's apartment.

"Oh, dearest sister, I came as soon as I heard!"

"About the wedding?" Mrs. Bennet smiled smugly.

"Er, no...I came about the murder."

"Murder!" Mrs. Bennet clasped her chest, "who has been murdered?"

"Why sister, has there not been a murder at Longbourn? Only, on the way back from delivering to the Lucas's the butcher's boy saw a bloody sheet hanging from your window and ran all the way back to Meryton fearing that there had been a massacre."

Mrs. Bennet smiled, "Oh sister, there has been no massacre, there has been a wedding and a wedding night!" She winked at Mrs. Phillips and explained about Charlotte's death and Elizabeth's rushed wedding. Her eyes sparkled, "Did you see the sheet, sister?"

"No, there is nothing hanging from your windows now."

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and frowned, "Lizzie must have taken it down. She is so naturally modest and delicate about such things. Oh sister, I wish you could have seen it! Blood everywhere! It was as if somebody had used the sheet to slaughter a cow. I've never seen anything like it and I'm sure I never shall again. I declare that there is not another maiden in the whole of Hertfordshire who will bleed as much as my dear Lizzie did on her wedding night." Mrs. Bennet puffed out her chest with pride, "My daughter has set the standard of bleeding by which others shall forever be judged."

Later that morning the coach came to collect Mr. And Mrs. Collins to take them to Hunsford. Elizabeth watched the coach arrive with very mixed feelings. She, of course, did not want to be Mr. Collins wife but, by the same token, she could not help but be relieved to be leaving home as her mother and sisters were driving her to distraction. Despite him forcing her to marry a man she did not love or respect Elizabeth would miss her father. She understood his motives and had already half forgiven him, especially as she now had his ongoing protection and support and he had saved her from ever having to share a bedchamber with her husband. Just so long as Mr. Collins did not touch her she felt she could endure anything and at least in Hunsford she would be the mistress of her own household.

Her father hugged her tearfully, "Goodbye my dearest child. It is time for you to have your own home, time for you to leave your very silly sisters, but oh, how I will miss your calm, intelligent presence. And remember, if Mr. Collins so much as lays a finger upon you I will come to Hunsford and run him through!"

Kitty and Lydia were sulking because Elizabeth had not shared the details of her wedding night with them.

"But you promised!" cried Lydia.

Kitty's eyes twinkled, "Was it so very horrible that you dare not trust yourself to speak of it?"

Heartily sick of their goading and total lack of compassion for her predicament, Elizabeth hugged her sisters to her and whispered, "Mr. Collins is so very large and so very wild a lover that it is only with great difficulty that I walk today."

Lydia and Kitty's jaws dropped open and Elizabeth, with a sly smile, climbed into the coach.

"Two daughters married!" Mrs. Bennet clasped her hands in joy, "I am keeping your wedding sheet as a keepsake dear Lizzie. Goodbye and do not pine for us as we will surely come and visit you very shortly. I am so looking forward to meeting Lady Catherine."

As the coach drew off Elizabeth gritted her teeth and waved.

The Collinses travelled in uncompanionable silence for several hours until Mr. Collins spoke at last, "Lady Catherine will find it very strange that we do not...have sexual congress."

Elizabeth continued to gaze out of the coach window, enjoying the novelty of unfamiliar surroundings, "How is she to know?"

"Why, because I will tell her, of course!" blustered Mr. Collins. "I will tell her that I have been treated most barbarously and tricked into a loveless marriage all because Longbourn is entailed to me."

Elizabeth shrugged, "If you want it widely known that your wife does not sleep with you that is your prerogative. For my part, if anybody, including the great Lady Catherine, confronts me about the issue I will simply get them to smell your feet. Then let us see with whom their sympathies lie."

Mr. Collins quietly fumed but did not speak further on the subject. He could never defy Lady Catherine but, if she commanded him to wash his feet he feared that he might have to.

Pale and shaking, Darcy staggered into the house on Bruton Street and collapsed into an easy chair before even taking off his hat and coat. Caroline was getting ready to go leave. Darcy regarded her with distain as she pinned her hat.

"Poor darling, you look terrible," Cooed Caroline with a hat pin between her teeth, "wherever have you been?"

"Woolwich."

Caroline stopped preening herself, she knew that prison hulks were kept on that part of the Thames, "Oh well, it makes a change from Mayfair I suppose."

"I saw Larwood."

Caroline stared at Darcy's reflection in the hall looking glass. The naked hatred in his eyes shocked her, "Really? What on earth was he doing in Woolwich? I hope you boxed his ears for going on leave without permission."

"He is to be transported to Australia tomorrow."

"Gosh, how awful!" Caroline grabbed her shawl and reticule and made towards the door. She stopped and in a falsely casual voice asked, "Did you get to speak to the poor, dear fellow?"

Darcy smiled slightly, regarding her from under hooded eyes but he said nothing. Caroline swallowed hard and left the house knowing that the game was very nearly up.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Despite the warmth of the day Elizabeth shivered upon entering the parsonage at Hunsford. She was immediately struck by the change in atmosphere. When she had last visited it had been a warm, comfortable and welcoming family home but since Charlotte's death the parsonage had altered into something cold, cavernous and foreboding.

The only servant kept at the parsonage was a sullen maid called Ruby, who was expected to work as a scullery maid, parlour maid and ladies maid when required. She did all three jobs very badly but until now Charlotte's efficiency had hidden Ruby's deficiencies.

Elizabeth handed Ruby her hat and coat, walked into Charlotte's pokey sitting room and sank listlessly into an easy chair. The sky was darkening but she had not the energy or the inclination to either draw the curtains or ask the maid to draw them for her. After sometime there was a knock on the door and Elizabeth's heart sank a little lower when Mr. Collins walked in. He coughed akwardly. She slowly dragged her gaze from the window and turned towards him.

"We must dine soon."

"I have no appetite."

"Well, I have!" said Mr. Collins indignantly.

"Mr. Collins, we are not attached at the hip. If you want to dine then, by all means, do so."

"I jolly well will! But you have to cook something first!"

Elizabeth's eyes opened wide, "Cook...?"

"Yes!" said Mr. Collins impatiently.

"Can't the maid..." began Elizabeth.

"I am not eating anything that half wit has prepared. Her culinary skills begin and end with peeling parsnips and goodness only knows when she last washed her hands."

"I am willing to bet that her hands have seen soap and water more recently than your feet. Anyway, I am sorry to disappoint you but I have never cooked anything in my entire life. You know full well that we kept a cook/housekeeper at Longbourn."

"Then you will just have to learn or we will go very hungry," snapped Mr. Collins.

Elizabeth shrugged and went back to staring out of the window before taking herself off to bed. She slept in the same room that she had stayed in before but this time she wedged a chair under the doorknob to deter any unwanted nocturnal visits.

The next morning Elizabeth dressed herself and was just putting on her hat and coat in the hall when Mr. Collins bellowed for her to enter the dining room. Reluctantly Elizabeth walked as far as the doorway. Her husband was sitting at the dining table with a napkin tucked into his neck scarf and he held a knife and fork in each hand.

"I smell no bacon," he observed tetchily.

Elizabeth sniffed, "No, nor I."

He threw down his cutlery, "Well, I must have my bacon and an egg and freshly baked bread for breakfast else I will not have enough energy to get through the morning service!"

Elizabeth shrugged, "Well sir, I am sure that there will be flour in the pantry, and I know well that there are chickens in the garden and a pig in the pen."

"And what is that supposed to mean," Mr. Collins frowned, mystified.

"It means, that if you want breakfast sir, you must cook it yourself!" Elizabeth pinned her hat and walked out of the front door. She headed for the graveyard, collecting a posy of wild flowers on the way.

Charlotte did not yet have a headstone but hers was the only freshly dug grave. Elizabeth gently laid the posy on top of the freshly disturbed earth and said a whispered prayer for her friend. She also apologised for missing her funeral and marrying her husband and promised to come and visit her grave frequently.

As she stood over the grave a wept a feeling of warmth, love and positivity swept over Elizabeth. She now felt sure that Charlotte had heard her prayer and was supporting her. Elizabeth knew that with Charlotte's love she would survive her new life. She turned back to the parsonage with a lighter heart and the stirrings of an appetite.

Back at the parsonage she found Mr. Collins gnawing disconsolately on a hunk of stale bread in the kitchen. He stared at her balefully. She turned away without comment. Once the dairy maid had called she drank some fresh milk in Charlotte's sitting room but it was not long before Mr. Collins, invigorated by his meagre breakfast, burst in upon her.

"So this is what our lives are to be?" he cried.

"It very much looks that way, doesn't it," replied Elizabeth coolly.

"You will not lie with me, you will not cook for me and you will not keep house for me – and yet you call yourself my wife!" he spat.

"You are mistaken; I do not call myself your wife. The law calls me your wife. I sir, call myself a prisoner and you an ass!"

"Why you insolent..." cried Mr. Collins, "But I should have known, I should have known! I, a man of God, tried to spread a little charity upon your family. I came to give you my name and give your family back some respectability in an attempt to counterbalance the low ways of your sister. And this is the thanks I receive? Why, you are as tainted as your sibling."

Elizabeth stood up, "No sir, you came to Longbourn seeking my hand, knowing very well that my father could no longer refuse you. You forced an old honourable man's hand and I despise you for it!" Elizabeth slowly advanced upon him until they were almost nose to nose, "Listen, and listen well for I do not boil cabbages twice, I am your wife in name only; I will not cook for you, I will not keep house for you and if you ever so much as try to lay a finger on me I will stab you in the throat with a hat pin. You have forever destroyed any chance of happiness I might once have had so I care not one fig for what society may think of me or us. If you want to tell the world that your marriage is a sham then sir, be my guest!"

Mr. Collins took a nervous gulp and a step backwards before calling for the maid. Ruby entered the room nonchalantly and Mr. Collins turned upon her, "Ruby, from now on you are to do all the cooking and the cleaning and...and just generally run the parsonage."

Ruby's mouth dropped and her eyes looked mournful at the thought of all that work, "But master I ain't ever done no cooking or nothing! I only does peeling and washing up. And I feeds the peels to Rosalie."

"Who's Rosalie?" Elizabeth frowned to think of such a poor wretch existing on the peelings of her kitchen.

"Rosalie's my only friend in the world," cried Ruby.

"Rosalie is not your friend, she has no soul, she is a pig. I repeat, from now on you will run the parsonage," commanded Mr. Collins, "and if you don't, Rosalie gets it," he drew a finger across his throat.

Ruby looked from her master to her new mistress and then burst into tears and fled from the room with her apron over her head.

Caroline sat down late to dinner. Darcy, still pale and frail, sat at the opposite end of the vast highly polished mahogany table from his wife. He languorously unfurled his linen napkin.

"Your milliner keeps later and later hours."

"Yes, but then again, I am her best customer," smiled Caroline.

"I do hope you have not grown too dependent upon her services," Darcy let the sentence hang in the air.

"Would it matter?" Caroline broke her bread roll and buttered it, "After all, it's not as if you ever miss me."

"True. But I don't want it to be too much of a wrench for you when we are in the country."

Caroline put down her soup spoon, "The country?"

"Yes, I will recover sooner in the country air, that is my aunt's view at any rate, so she has invited us to stay at Rosings."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

In the days that followed Elizabeth survived her time at Hunsford by writing to Jane and contriving to be away from the parsonage as much as possible. She visited Charlotte's grave frequently and went for long walks. Lady Catherine was not in residence but had left her permission for the new Mrs. Collins to walk freely about the park at Rosings.

Elizabeth walked only on the outskirts of the park and although happy to be out of doors and away from her husband, she could not help but be mournful when her walks inevitably evoked happy memories of her last visit, memories of shared walks with both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam, of their visits to the parsonage and of Darcy's proposal.

How she wished now that she had swallowed her pride and accepted his proposal. How happy her life would now be if she had. But would it? Would it really? Back then he had addressed her as his social inferior and had been openly livid with himself for falling in love with her. If she had accepted him then her role would always have been that of the grateful inferior, rescued from her embarrassing family by her charitable, rich, well born husband. Could she have been happy playing that role? She knew the answer to be no. Despite her family and lack of fortune, Elizabeth felt inferior to nobody and even if it meant losing out on marriage to Darcy she could not pretend to feel something she did not. The only way she could accept a proposal of marriage from Darcy was if he saw her as his equal or even, she smiled ruefully, as his superior.

From their time together in London she now felt sure that he did love her as his social equal but it was torture to pursue such thoughts as all hope of ever being Darcy's wife was now gone. The chance of a happy, fulfilling life with a man she adored was lost to her forever. She was a country parson's wife and her dull existence with a man she neither loved, respected nor liked, stretched out before her. Hunsford was a hamlet and the only chance of society was an invitation to dine at Rosings with Lady Catherine, a bombastic bully with very little manners or grace.

Elizabeth was in sight of the parsonage when her glum thoughts were interrupted by Ruby crying.

"Mrs. Collins! Mrs. Collins! Come quick! Something terrible has happened!"

"What's the matter, Ruby? What is it? Has Mr. Collins met with an accident? Is he dead?" Elizabeth tried to keep the note of hope out of her voice.

"No, it's Rosalie! She's escaped her pen and has got into the vegetable patch!"

"Good luck to her," Elizabeth shrugged and carried on walking towards the parsonage.

Ruby's eyes widened in horror, "But after she's eaten what she wants at the parsonage then she gets all fired up, like, I think it's the 'tatoes, and her little eyes goes wild and she goes on a rampage, like and the Blacksmith said that next time he catches Rosalie in his garden he'll send her back with an apple in her mouth!"

Elizabeth was unmoved, "Let Mr. Collins deal with it."

"But he ain't here! He's gorn to see a sick parishioner. He won't be back for ages yet!"

Elizabeth sighed, in all good conscience she could not stand back and risk the pig being shot. Truth be known, she was becoming fond of the wilful creature, after all, Rosalie seemed to be the only resident of Hunsford with a bit of spirit. "Calm down, Ruby! Let me go in and put my apron and mop cap on and I will help you catch Rosalie."

After much coaxing and hand feeding of carrots, bread, cheese and whatever else the women could find in the pantry, Rosalie allowed herself to chivvied back into her pen.

"Now she needs to be settled," said Ruby.

Elizabeth frowned, "In what way...settled?"

"Now we have to brush her, give her a bit of a wash and then rub oil on her bristles, she loves that."

"She's eaten us out of house and home, surely that's settled her enough."

"Oh no, mistress! Quite the opposite! 'Cos she knows she's done wrong so now she can't settle, see."

"But that's her own fault, surely."

"She can't help herself, like. She's drawn to that vegetable patch like a moth to the flame, mistress. Now, she won't settle until she knows she's forgiven. Mrs. Charlotte was always most insistent that Rosalie be properly settled, so she's not left all alone in her pen with nothing but her bad thoughts, her guilt and her mud."

"Oh, very well, show me what needs doing."

The women got into the smelly, muddy pen and began brushing Rosalie with scrubbing brushes.

"She loves this!" said Ruby. Rosalie did indeed make some deep throated, appreciative oinks. "Now we splash her with water, like. Oh sorry mistress!" Ruby slipped on the mud and most of the bucket of cold water went on Elizabeth.

"Just get on with it," said Elizabeth through gritted teeth. Rosalie threw her head back repeatedly as if she was laughing.

"Now we rubs her in goose fat. Stops her from scratching, see."

Dripping wet and up to her knees in mud, Elizabeth gingerly rubbed the gloopy fat onto the animal's back.

"I'll just get her another pail of water, she'll be thirsty after all that bread and cheese," said Ruby brightly, but no sooner did she open the door to the pen than Rosalie bolted, knocking Elizabeth face down in the mud as she did so. "Oh no, it's because she didn't get enough water, she's gone to wallow!"

"Where?" cried Elizabeth as she struggled to get up, "because when I find her I'll stick an apple in her mouth myself!"

"She'll be heading for the lake at Rosings! And the gamekeeper said if he sees her digging up the turf in his park one more time, that he's gonna send her back as crackling!"

The two women gave chase and arrived moments later panting at the lake. At first the pig was nowhere to be seen but suddenly there was a scream and the startled cries of women coming from a nearby shrubbery. Dripping wet and covered in stinking mud and goose fat, Elizabeth darted into the shrubbery and called out for Rosalie only to be confronted by a small group of people taking tea on the lawn. However, Rosalie was the only one currently enjoying the picnic. The ladies screamed as the pig casually trampled over the white table cloth draped upon the ground and leisurely went along snuffling and truffling from plate to plate.

"Elizabeth, is that you?" said Mr. Darcy.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Elizabeth blushed under her coating of mud and swatted away an encircling fly. Darcy stood up and approached her.

"Elizabeth?"

At last she reluctantly replied, "Hello Darcy."

They stared at each other, a thousand unspoken sentiments and desires smouldering in their eyes but before either one of them could think to say anything further there was a fresh outburst of shrieks from the picnickers. The young lovers tore their eyes away from each other only to find that Rosalie, having eaten all of Darcy's sandwiches and wolfed down the lemon poppy seed cake, had now turned her attentions to the ornamental cherries adorning Caroline's hat. The shrieks came from under the said hat.

"Get it off me! Get the stinking great beast away from me!" cried Caroline.

Elizabeth regarded Caroline, her eyes looked tired and her figure fuller. She reminded Elizabeth of how her Aunt Gardiner looked when with child...

Rosalie gave a grunt of pleasure as she contentedly crunched the ornamental cherries and then started to munch Caroline's straw hat. Caroline frantically managed to unpin the hat before leaping up and taking cover behind a nearby bush. After swallowing the last of the hat Rosalie, having left a trail of muddy trotter prints all over the white tablecloth, decided it was time for some rest and relaxation. The tablecloth grew ever filthier, plates shattered and food got squeeshed as Rosalie threw herself down and proceeded to roll around on her back.

"Stop this barbarousness at once!" barked Lady Catherine but Rosalie rolled on obliously. "Don't just stand there!" Lady Catherine addressed the two footmen in attendance, "remove this vile creature at once!"

The footmen glanced at each other before gingerly approaching the pig, both were reluctant to spoil their resplendent uniforms. From under her forward flopping ears Rosalie's beady little eyes caught sight of them stealthily approaching. Sensing that the hunt was on she threw back her head and gave a snort of rebellion before bounding off into the park with the footmen giving chase.

"Well, don't just sit there eating damson jam from the pot, Mrs. Jenkinson!" bellowed Lady Catherine, "that pig must be caught! Fetch the grounds men! And fetch a doctor, my dearest Anne has fainted clean away!"

Elizabeth and Darcy joined in the chase after Rosalie but as soon as they were out of sight of the picnickers Darcy pulled Elizabeth to him and hungrily searched her dark, fine eyes.

"My dearest, Elizabeth."

"I had no idea of your coming to Rosings."

"My Aunt thought that the country air would aid my recovery, we joined her on her way back from Bath and arrived here this morning. She was keen to start with the fresh air treatment without delay, hence the picnic. But enough of all this, let me hold you tight my fair Elizabeth." He pulled her close to him."

"I can feel that you are well recovered," said Elizabeth coyly as the hardness of his desire pressed against her thigh. "Careful, you will get mud on your waistcoat and breeches!" warned Elizabeth as she swatted at the flies trailing her.

"I care not one jot for the mud! In point of fact, I am jealous of the mud!"

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose sceptically.

Darcy breathed into her ear, "Because it touches your skin."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock, "Mr. Darcy!"

"I am sorry, I forgot myself. It's the unexpected delight of once more having you in my arms." He pulled away from her so that he could once more look into the eyes he adored, "But dearest Elizabeth, pray tell, what brings you to Hunsford?"

She looked away and shifted uncomfortably, "It's a long story..."

"Are you visiting that buffoon of a cousin of yours again?" he chortled but she remained silent. "It matters not. But dearest Elizabeth, there is something I must know," he looked serious and held her at arm's length so that he could read her face, "Tell me my love, have you been true to me?"

Elizabeth bit her lip before bursting out, "Yes, of course! I swear it!"

He smiled with relief, "Then all is well! I was afraid that you might take it upon yourself to marry some fool just because I am in this frightful fix with Caroline." He hugged her close, "Dearest Elizabeth, how could I ever have doubted your constancy? You and your foolish cousin must come to dinner tonight? He is such good comedy value."

"Darcy, there is something that I must ask you."

"Yes, my precious?"

"Have you been true to me?"

He frowned, "How can you even doubt it?"

"Because I am sure that your wife is with child."

His face clouded over, "I suspected as much. My valet told me that her maid says that she has not had her term for some time."

"But if she is carrying your heir she, or rather her son, stands to inherit everything," cried Elizabeth.

He looked very serious, "I know," he held her shoulders and stared at her, "Elizabeth it is not mine - it is Wickhams!"

Elizabeth shuddered, "Oh, most horrible!

Darcy clasped her to him, "The whole situation is awful but somehow we will surmount it and one day be together." He kissed her neck and desire swept through her entire body but still she tried to fight him off. She knew it was vital that he think her modest at all times.

"Sir, you forget yourself!"

"I just want to kiss you and touch you!"

"But what about the mud?"

"Oh hang the mud!"

"Well, what about the smell?"

"Don't be so self conscious, my precious, all women smell. It is perfectly natural."

"Not that smell!" huffed Elizabeth.

There was a piercing scream from somewhere nearby. Elizabeth jumped and Darcy let his hands drop to his sides. They both ran in the direction of the scream and soon happened upon Ruby, who was kneeling down and crying hysterically while tenderly stroking a very still Rosalie.

"Pig's dead," said the grounds man who stood by watching the scene.

Elizabeth and Darcy stared wordlessly at Rosalie who lay on her side, her ears had fallen over her eyes, her tongue lolled out of the side of her mouth and there was white foam around her mouth and snout.

"Poison," said the grounds man.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Poisoned!" Elizabeth gasped and turned frightened eyes towards Darcy, "The pig ate your sandwiches."

Alarm coursed through Darcy but he strove to hide it, "Do not alarm yourself, we do not yet know the cause of death. It may well have been a heart attack, after all, it had just eaten a whole lemon poppy seed cake."

The head Gardener joined them and knelt down to look at Rosalie, "No, that's poison done that, make no mistake. Me pa's best pig keeled over in the exact the same manner, straight after it ate a bottle of me ma's rat poison."

Caroline, Lady Catherine and Anne, fanning herself and supported by Mrs. Jenkinson, walked over and gathered round the dead pig.

"But there's no rat poison here," said Elizabeth.

"That's true enough," conceded the Head Gardener, "but there's plenty in this garden that is poisonous."

"Such as...?" inquired Lady Catherine.

"Well, for instance, that white hellebore over there," the Head Gardener nodded towards a pretty plant with white flowers. "If a pig was truffling around that and ate its roots, that'd good as kill it then and there. Even just touching it can give you a rash and irritation."

All eyes swivelled to look at the innocent looking flowers.

"Well, have them dug up and burnt," commanded Lady Catherine, "immediately!"

The Head Gardner doffed his cap and went off to retrieve his shovel.

Elizabeth comforted the distraught Ruby as they walked back to the parsonage. Mr. Collins saw them coming and was standing, po-faced, at the front door.

"What on earth has been going on and where have you both been? You look like heathen savages!"

"I'll tell you later, we're tired and Ruby is upset, let us pass."

"I shall do no such thing!" Mr. Collins puffed up his chest with indignation and pointed a finger at Ruby, "She is a servant and as such will confine herself to using the rear entrance."

"For heaven's sake!" Elizabeth was just about to launch into an exasperated attack on her husband when the sound of a coach approaching stopped her in her tracks. Even Ruby stopped her snivelling long enough to look up as the carriage came to a halt outside the parsonage.

"Cooee!" cried Mrs. Bennet as she descended from the carriage.

"Mother?" said Elizabeth incredulously.

Mrs. Bennet ignored her daughter save for perfunctorily handing over her valise. "How well you look Mr. Bennet. Now, where is my daughter, I can no longer wait to see her after all these weeks!"

Lydia and Kitty clambered out of the carriage and Elizabeth put down the valise, "It's me, mother."

Mrs. Bennet did a double take, "Elizabeth?"

"Yes."

"But you look like the very devil! Why are you dressed as a serving girl and why are you covered head to toe in mud?"

"The pig escaped."

Mrs. Bennet frowned and pursed her lips, "Well, I'm not sure as I approve of my daughter running after escaping pigs. And I certainly don't approve of you being outside without a parasol. You'll become as freckled as a hen's egg in no time at all, and then what will people say? Well, show us inside Lizzie, before you sisters become as freckled as you are."

Her sisters filed past her, holding their noses and giggling as they entered the parsonage.

Ruby boiled enough water in the copper for Elizabeth to have a bath in the kitchen. Elizabeth flung a steaming flannel over her face and tried to let her stressed body relax in the warm water before soaping herself. By the time she climbed out of the bath the water was muddy and lukewarm but Ruby was still grateful for the chance of a bath, even though she must use her mistress's water.

Once dressed Elizabeth sat in her parlour and had only been listening to her sisters' idle chatter for a few minutes before her jaw started to clench with annoyance. She was therefore grateful for the diversion when somebody knocked at the front door. As Ruby was still bathing, Elizabeth answered the door herself only to find one of Lady Catherine's footman on her doorstep.

He bowed, "Lady Catherine requests the pleasure of your company for dinner this evening."

"Please thank her Ladyship but I am afraid that we have unexpected guests who arrived this afternoon."

The Footman smiled "Lady Catherine is aware of this. She made me flag down the carriage on its way back up the lane, your guests are also invited."

Elizabeth closed the front door slowly. Her heart leapt at the thought of seeing Darcy again so soon but she also experienced a feeling of unease at the thought of her mother and sisters being present. This feeling of unease grew as Lydia and Kitty insisted on following her to her room for the toilette.

"So, this is your room?" said Lydia. "Lord, but it is small! Does Mr. Collins have the large room at the front? That is not at all as it should be. The wife should have the large room and the man a small uncomfortable room."

"So that he feels more inclined to visit frequently," giggled Kitty.

"In a household as small as this a husband and wife should share a room, until they have enough children, that is," declared Lydia.

"Excuse me for not deferring to you first about where I may or may not sleep in my own house," said Elizabeth as she pinned Lydia's hair.

"Is it because of...you know..." Kitty's eyes twinkled expectantly.

"Because of what?" Elizabeth irritably turned her attention towards Kitty's hair and wondered when she would get the chance to do her own. She also wondered how her mother's hair was fairing under Ruby's tender administrations.

"Is it because of what you said before? That he's too big? Now that your life involves manual labour and animal husbandry it's imperative that you can walk, is it not?" Lydia broke off into peals of laughter and was soon joined by Kitty.

Elizabeth remonstrated with both of them, using the bristle hair brush as a potential weapon, "If either of you so much as breathe a word of this at Rosings I will box your ears!"

Mr. Collins called impatiently from downstairs, "Come, come, it is time to depart if we are to walk across the park."

Lydia and Kitty bustled out of the room. Elizabeth could hear them chattering and tittering as they descended the stairs. With a sigh she quickly tied her hair back, bit her lips, pinched her cheeks and applied a small amount of ashes of roses to her wrists and neck. She walked into the hallway to find Mr. Collins earnestly talking to her uninterested sisters.

"Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear cousins, about your apparel. Lady Catherine is far from requiring that elegance of dress in us, which becomes herself and daughter. Lady Catherine will not think the worse of you for being simply dressed. She likes to have the distinction of rank preserved.''

"Mr. Collins, my daughters are wearing finest Chantilly lace!" protested Mrs. Bennet as she descended the stairs. "There is nothing simple about their attire, I do assure you. And if your Lady Catherine is so very grand then why, may I ask, am I being made to walk through a park in order to eat my dinner? Does not her Ladyship own a carriage?"

Mr. Collins bridled at the attack upon his beloved Lady Catherine but the thought of imminently eating hot food kept him in good humour.

Elizabeth was lost in her own private thoughts of seeing Darcy again for the large part of the walk. They were therefore almost at the front door of Rosings before Elizabeth noticed that her mother was carrying something other than a reticule.

"Mother, why are you carrying a carpet bag?"

"That's for me to know and for you to wonder," grinned Mrs. Bennet.

"Mother, tell me what is in the bag."

"Shush!" hissed Mr. Collins, "The footmen shall hear, we are almost upon them.

The party was ushered into Rosings by several dashing footmen and shown to the drawing room. Apart from those who had been present at the picnic there was another young man present who Lady Catherine introduced as Phileas de Bourgh, her nephew.

Obsequious, apologetic introductions were made by Mr. Collins. Elizabeth felt her heart stop when Mr. Collins introduced her as his wife. Darcy's eyes widened and the colour drained from his face. He glanced at Elizabeth with something approaching disgust before turning on his heel and making for the French windows.

Elizabeth left it a moment before joining him. They both pretended to take in the view of the park while frantically whispering to one another.

"You said you had been true! And yet, here you are, married to him! Of all men! You chose him?" hissed Darcy.

"I had no choice, I was forced. Too keep Longbourn in the family and keep a roof over our heads my father insisted that I marry him."

Darcy's face scrunched up in pain as he balled his fist, "When I think of his fat paws mauling you..."

"No! You must not think that! I have been true. I can get an annulment as soon as I have an alternative place to live. My father will cut me off without a penny the moment I leave Mr. Collins."

"Well, then do it! Do it without delay! I can set you up in a house in town."

"No!" cried Elizabeth, "That can never be! My reputation would forever be sullied. I would never be a part of decent society again. No, there has to be another way."

"But I cannot bear to think of you spending one more night with that odious buffoon."

"It is not like that. We have separate rooms. My father has said that he will run him through if he so much as lays a finger on me."

Elizabeth felt Darcy's body relax and they shared a small smile.

"What are you talking of over there, Darcy?"

"We are admiring the park, aunt."

"Yes, Rosings boasts a very fine park but do come over here," she patted the sofa next to her, "I must have my share of the conversation."

Reluctantly Elizabeth and Darcy rejoined the group.

"So yes, as I was saying, two daughters married!" thrilled Mrs Bennet. "And I hope very soon that I shall find husbands for my Lydia and Kitty. I'm not so bothered about Mary. She doesn't eat much and spends most of her day in the library, when Mr. Bennet allows. I'm not sure that I'd wish Mary upon anyone and it is good to have one unmarried daughter is it not? One must have a daughter to care for you in old age, when you can no longer reach to wash the bits that need washing the most, don't you agree Lady Catherine?"

"I most certainly do not!" bellowed Lady Catherine. "I intend to find a fine husband for Anne. I thought I had found one," she shot a glare at Darcy, "but the gentleman had other ideas it seems. But Anne will make a very fine wife. She is so very delicate and refined and had she ever had the energy to learn would have made a very fine pianist and soprano. And she is a most edifying conversationalist, well, perhaps more of a listener but of her great beauty there can be no doubt."

Mrs. Bennet passed an unimpressed eye over the sickly woman. Her competitive spirit flared, "that a beauty?" she whispered to Lydia and Kitty, "I'd sooner call Mary a courtesan!"

Lydia and Kitty burst into peals of laughter.

"What is so amusing? Pray tell?" Lady Catherine frowned.

"The young Miss de Bourgh may well be all those things," said Mrs. Bennet, "but if you talk of great beauty then you must first meet my dearest Jane. And though I cannot pretend that Elizabeth will ever be a great beauty, there is one thing at which no other bride will surpass her."

Elizabeth felt her bowels turn to liquid.

"I defy any other bride to bleed as profusely as my Lizzie did on her wedding night. When I entered her chamber the morning after the wedding the bed looked like an abattoir!"

Lady Catherine gasped at the turn in conversation. Unfortunately Mrs. Bennet interpreted this as disbelief and proceeded to open her carpet bag.

"Oh, mother, no! You didn't! You mustn't!" cried Elizabeth.

Mrs. Bennet victoriously unfurled the blood splattered sheet from her bag and spread it out upon the Persian carpet, "I defy anybody to better that!" she beamed.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"How vile!" cried Caroline before holding a handkerchief to her mouth and hurrying from the room.

Elizabeth's eyes sparked with fury, "Mother, how could you!" She grabbed the bloody sheet and also rushed out.

"Elizabeth, come back here at once!" called out Mrs. Bennet. "Bring back my sheet. I have not yet shown it to your my brother and Mrs. Gardiner and their acquaintances."

Darcy gave Mrs. Bennet a look of incredulity before dashing after Elizabeth.

Lady Catherine beckoned over a footman, "Tell cook that I am feeling quite unwell after that spectacle. Tell her to fry some chanterelle mushrooms for me. They are such a wonderful pick me up. Oh and Priggs, is the burgundy uncorked?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very well, now pour it out. The more air that gets to it the better."

Darcy caught up with Elizabeth as she headed towards the kitchen.

"Elizabeth!" From behind he placed a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off. "Elizabeth, stop!" he commended.

She stopped, he turned her to face him, "You told me you had been true."

Slowly she raised her eyes to meet his, "Had not you better not see what ails your pregnant wife?"

"The child is not mine and well you know it. Now tell me, what happened? Did Collins force himself upon you? For if he did I will see to it that he pays..."

"No...he did not force me."

"Oh, so you consented...perhaps you were curious or there is an attraction between the two of you?"

"No!" cried Elizabeth. "How could you even think such a thing? If you could but smell his feet!"

"I'm sorry?" Darcy frowned uncertainly.

"Look, look at the sheet more closely." She proffered the sheet to him. He took hold of it gingerly.

"Look at the fur on it."

"Fur? Is that what you call it? Well, let's see, it's short, fine, fluffy, incredibly soft and white with a grey tip. How very curious, but very sensual." He gave her a mischievous smile, "I say, do you dye yourself...down below?"

Elizabeth's eyes flared, "I do no such thing! What I am trying to tell you is that the fur is not mine."

A look of horror crossed his face, "You mean...it's Collins's?" He dropped the sheet with a shudder.

"No! It belongs to a rabbit."

"What? But that is even worse! To share carnal knowledge with a...beast of the field!"

"Oh for heaven's sake!" cried Elizabeth, "I am trying to tell you that it is not my blood. It is rabbit blood. I am still a maiden."

For a moment Darcy's horror melted into relief, "I am so very relieved to hear it," then his face clouded over, "But I still don't understand what the rabbit was doing in bed with you in the first place."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, snatched the sheet from the floor and stalked into the kitchen. The servants looked on in surprise as Elizabeth barged in, walked up to and opened the door to the range and shoved the offending sheet into the flames.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, Caroline hid behind the Japanese lacquered screen hiding the chamber pot and observed the burgundy being poured out. As soon as the last glass was filled the footman left the dining room and Caroline skipped out from being the screen. According to his name card Darcy was seated on Lady Catherine's right and Caroline was seated next to him. She surveyed the table, every red wine glass was one third full of burgundy, an increasingly precious commodity since the start of the war with France. After a furtive look towards the door she opened the ring given to her by Isabella de Medici and tipped a white powder into Darcy's glass. She then snapped her ring shut and smiling, slowly walked back towards the drawing room.

Back in the drawing room Mrs. Bennet was lamenting her daughter's behaviour, "Well, Lizzie is such a modest girl, which must be why she ran out so indecorously. But I do hope she returns my sheet for I would now be quite lost without it. It certainly causes a stir when I bring it out at my sister's whist evenings."

"Well, I never!" Lady Catherine fanned herself vigorously, "Jenkinson, fetch my snuff!"

Mrs. Jenkinson bobbed a quick curtsey before scurrying from the room.

Anne weakly rose from the sofa and said in a faint voice, "I need some fresh air, mama."

"Wait until Jenkinson gets back."

"I need the privy, mama. The sight of blood has made me feel unwell."

"Well, be sure to cover yourself with your shawl. Do not catch cold."

"No, mama," Anne's petit figure drifted from the room.

"Such a sickly little dry bone of a thing," observed Mrs. Bennet.

"I beg your pardon?" bellowed Lady Catherine.

"Oh, I mean no offence, Lady Catherine. It's just that the way Mr. Collins oh'ed and ah'ed about your daughter I was expecting a lot more. Now you describe her as a beauty and well you should, for you are her mother. But in reality she is a plain, insipid little thing. Shame, but at least she as a fortune so she will no doubt find a husband but, for how long she will keep his affections is less certain. Now, Lady Catherine, wish you could see my Jane, though I am her mother and duty bound to say she is a beauty, it is not just I who says it. My Jane is considered one of the great beauties of Hertfordshire. But then so was I. Oh yes, in my youth I could have had my pick of red coats. Mr. Bennet says that there are still red coats out there today who would have me, if only he could but find them. Well, do my eyes not still sparkle? And I still have my retrousse nose and sweet dimpled chin. So, you see, my dear Jane had my base of beauty from which to build but your Anne did not. Oh, your gowns are fine and your posture correct but you must own that your features are strong and a rather heavy and, after a certain age, that can make you look a little masculine which, I think you will agree, is not becoming."

Mrs. Bennet smiled serenely as she fluttered her fan. Everybody, even Lady Catherine, must come to understand that her Jane was the fairest lady of their acquaintance. Lady Catherine could do no more than huff as she was speechless with rage.

Instead of going directly to Lady Catherine's apartments Mrs. Jenkinson hurried down to the kitchen. She did not notice Elizabeth and Darcy embracing in one of the dark corridors she passed. Once in the kitchen she spoke to the cook, "Are Lady Catherine's chanterelle mushrooms ready?"

"Just ready, Mrs. Jenkinson. They only take a moment to fry."

Cook pointed towards a small lidded porcelain terrine. With her back to the servants Mrs. Jenkinson surreptitiously looked round before slowly lifting the lid off the terrine. She reached into the top of her stays and pulled out a small drawstring pouch which she unloosened and sprinkled the contents, the finely grated white root of the white Helebore, over the mushrooms. She gave the mushrooms a quick stir before deftly replacing the lid and discreetly throwing the pouch in the kitchen waste.

"They will do nicely."

Instead of heading for the garden Anne made her way to her apartments. Mrs Jenkinson had thought her asleep that afternoon but Anne had been slyly able to observe her companion as she finely grating the root of a plant on to a sheet of paper and then placed it in a little pouch. Instinct told Anne that the root was poisonous, probably White Helebore. Anne kneeled down and rooted through the waste basket until she found the scrunched up sheet of paper which she carefully unfolded and, using a quill, added the remnants of the grated root to her snuff box. With the tip of the quill she stirred the contents of her snuff box well before snapping it shut and throwing the sheet of paper back in the waste bin.

Anne glided back into the drawing room at the same time as Caroline, Darcy, Elizabeth and Mrs. Jenkinson. All avoided eye contact with each other and all hoped that the direction from which they had approached the drawing room had not be observed.

Higgs, the butler, appeared, "Dinner is served."

eHeHHhhhhhh


End file.
